Renewal
by SoulTears
Summary: It all comes down to prophecy. One must kill the other. Nevertheless, The Boy Who Lived is going to need some extra help this time around, especially with Voldemort making his move sooner than anticipated... slightly edited
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. There, I said it! (sigh)

**Chapter 1: The Thief in the Night**

"Another year," Dumbledore announced to the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the end-of-year feast. Harry and friends looked knowingly at each other. What a year it had been, what with students being Petrified, cats getting tied up, and a mysterious chamber that was not supposed to exist. To top it off, inside this nonexistent room resided a huge snake with killer eyes that answer only to those that can speak its language. Another year indeed. Harry sighed heavily as the Headmaster spoke. He hated this feast, because it meant the fun was over and he would have to return to Privet Drive.

"So Harry, what was the Heir of Slytherin like," Hermionie asked while Dumbledore told the whole school how good it felt to be back, how the students were never in any danger, etc. Most of the students listened, but some eyes wandered. Among them was Draco Malfoy, whose eyes focused on Potter and his friends.

"They sure look cozy over there, don't they Goyle," he asked the burly young giant on his right sarcastically. "That Potter is a fool for associating with that Mudblood Granger and no-good Weasley." Crabbe and Goyle nodded stupidly, shooting their deadliest glares at the three. "You know what," Malfoy said after some silence, "I think I know of a good way of showing Potter why purebloods are the better breed. Listen up boys, cause this is what I want you to do." The three huddled together, evil snickering escaping through the cracks.

The day came when the students would have to return to their homes. There was cheerful chattering among the crowd waiting to board the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, his sister Ginny, and Hermionie stood first in line, giving them free choice of their compartment. They were silent, each entertaining themselves with idle activities. Harry leaned against the train and examined his nails, picking them to make sure they were free of dust. Ron absently stroked his rat Scabbers, his eyes wandering around the platform. Hermionie, as usual, had her nose in a book. It was quite large, with giant gold letters that read "1,001 Ways to do Just About Anything." Ginny stared at the sky, counting each cloud she could see. Finally, the conductor announced for the students to board. As one, Harry stood up, Hermionie closed the book, Ron's eyes focused, and Ginny ceased her counting. They entered the cart and choose the booth right by the entrance, closing the door so that no one else would enter. Once situated, Ron brought out his chessboard and set up the pieces. Harry choose white and the game began. Hermionie sat in the corner, occasionally looking over the top of her book to observe the game. Ginny simply stared off into space. She would sometimes glance at her brother, who watched her anxiously, and smile reassuringly. Three games later, with Harry finding his king once again trapped by Ron's knights, the boy sighed and decided to do something else.

"Wonder where that cart is," he asked, his voice penetrating the silence.

"It should be passing any minute now," Hermionie answered as she put the book aside. Sure enough, there was a knock on their door. Ron opened it and was surprised to see Malfoy sneering at them, Crabbe and Goyle on his sides like impassable mountains. All the other compartments were closed, leaving no one to witness anything that may occur. Harry and Hermionie stood up defiantly as Ron stepped back to join them.

"Well, Potter," said the blond-haired boy, "I see that you still enjoy befriending the riffraff. We were wondering," he nodded at his companions, "If you could lend us some money. See, I was just checking my purse and it seems I have nothing with which to buy some food from the cart. You can imagine my distress. Then I remembered the time you had bought the entire cart last year. So I came up with an idea: take Potter's money and use it as my own. I'm sure he won't mind, would you?" Crabbe and Goyle snickered as they entered the compartment. In a flash Harry had his wand out. Weaving through the heavy boys, he thrust the tip at the space between Malfoy's eyes.

"Call them off," he said, his voice cold. He did not know where his anger had come from. Maybe it was from the stress of the past year, or maybe it was the prospect of another torturous summer with his aunt and uncle. Whatever it was, Malfoy's voice and disgusting white face had set him off. "I am really not in the mood for your stupidity, Draco. So take you lapdogs and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of or so help me, I will curse you so much your own mother wouldn't recognize you." Draco watched his rival for a moment, their eyes digging into each other's skulls, and then he snapped his fingers and exited the compartment, Crabbe and Goyle at his heels. Harry pocketed his wand and closed the door. When he turned around, a huge smile was plastered on his face. The room erupted in laughter.

"Did you see his face?"

"That was great Harry!"

"Yeah, he looked like he was going to cry!"

The rest of the trip was spent joking and laughing. Even Ginny joined in the good nature. Ripping a piece of sheet of paper in two, Harry gave his phone number to Hermionie and Ron, asking that they call him during the summer. Ron cocked his head in confusion.

"What's a felly tone?"

Unfortunately, the train arrived at Platform 9¾ right on time. There was silence again as each student claimed his/her baggage. Finally, the time came to part. Ron waved good-bye as he went to join his brothers and Hermionie reminded the two to write. Harry turned to face his aunt and uncle.

"Who were those two," Uncle Vernon asked, "More freaks like you?" Harry did not answer as he pushed the cart toward the car and began loading his things into the trunk. Once everything was in order, he grabbed Hedwig's cage and sat in the car. His aunt and uncle got in as well and the car left the station parking lot. Next to Harry sat his overly obese cousin Dudley, his beady eyes staring at him through rolls of fat. With bungling sloth he ran his hand along the cage of the owl. Hedwig puffed up threateningly and Harry closed his eyes, waiting. 'Three, two, one,' he counted down mentally. At 'one' Dudley cried out with pain. Hedwig had bit him on the finger. Before his uncle could say anything, Harry spoke.

"I warned you not to touch her cage, Dudley, you know she doesn't like you," he said. His cousin muttered under his breath and showed his red finger to his mother, who kissed it to the point of causing it to prune. There were no more interruptions as the car entered Privet Drive.

Draco Malfoy watched from the air as the car turned into a house on the street. 'Who does he think he is,' he thought angrily, his hands squeezing the handles of his broomstick. 'How dare he threaten me? I'll show him! Wait until I tell Dad I know where the Great Harry Potter lives!' Laughing cruelly, he turned his broom around and disappeared into the clouds.

In the darkness of the Riddle mansion, the tap of unsteady feet could be heard. The man walked nervously down the hallway to the study, where a fire burned in the fireplace. Shelves of books took up the majority of the wall space, with pictures of past Riddles completing the room. In the middle was a large leather chair facing the fire. What stood out was the incredibly long snake that lay curled up by the heat. Upon smelling the fear of the man, it raised its head and hissed. A voice hissed in much the same manner from the chair.

"This had better be good news, she has not yet eaten," the voice said, a bony finger pointing toward the coiled serpent.

"My Lord, I have just heard from Lucius Malfoy that he has received information on the whereabouts of Harry Potter. He requested permission to 'visit' the home and eagerly awaits your answer," the man said, the fear raising his voice by a few octaves. The room was silent for a long time. Suddenly, a deep laughter ensued from the chair.

"Burn it down, and leave no one alive." The man bowed low and exited the room, shutting the door silently behind him.

Two weeks past since summer began and as usual, Harry was miserable. He sat on the grass of the front lawn, having been thrown out by his aunt once again. Not one letter or call had come from his friends. The loneliness and boredom was unbearable. On top of that, Dudley had got it into his mind that he would once again use Harry as his punching bag, so bruises were now a common phenomenon on his skin. It would have been worse, but Harry managed to scare his oversized cousin off by waving his wand and muttering incoherently. This of course led to a lecture and occasional manual labor, but it was worth it. Even as Vernon shouted at him about how much of a freak he was, Harry wished something would happen, anything at all. Fate, it seems, decided to heed his request.

One night in late June, Harry awoke to a noise downstairs in the living room. His mind was instantly at attention. His aunt and uncle never stayed up past midnight, and his clock displayed two-thirty. Getting out of bed, Harry rummaged for his wand and tiptoed to his door. Opening it slowly, he peered into the hallway. He could see a pair of dark figures on the top of the stairs heading into his direction. They wore cloaks with hoods and held wands in their hands. One entered Dudley's room while the other slipped into the master bedroom. Harry waited with bated breath. A step creaked inside the bedroom and he could his aunt and uncle's gasp of surprise. Vernon was about to speak when a sudden flash of green light filled the room, spilling into the hallway. Harry's heart stopped. He knew that spell! That same green light brought the memories back, her face crying out. It was the Death spell! 'Move,' his mind screamed as the same light emanated from Dudley's room. Taking a deep breath, Harry lunged down the hallway to the stairs, descending quickly and jumping down the last four steps. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a group of four hooded wizards in the living room, flames shooting from the wands and hitting the furniture. The light from the flames illuminated the face of one of them. It was Lucius Malfoy. Right then, Harry realized who was behind this. 'Draco, you will pay for this,' he thought. The anger was blinding him again and he pointed his wand at the wizards who had not yet noticed his presence.

"_Expelliarmus_," he yelled, sending the spell at Lucius, who fell over with a cry. The other wizards turned and shot various spells at Harry. He dove into the kitchen to avoid them. Wasting no time, Harry reached into the sink cabinet and took out a pan. Turning the stove to maximum heat, he placed the pan on it and waited. After a few minutes he took the hot pan by the handle and moved toward the entrance/exit of the kitchen. Just as one of the wizards came into view, he swung the pan. Its hot underbelly connected with the hood and dropped to the ground and clutched his face, his screams of pain muffled by his hands. Harry smiled and jumped into the living room, yelling, "_Petrificus Totalus!_" The remaining wizards ducked for cover and Harry ran past them, swinging the pan like a club. 'All I need is my Nimbus, just let me get to it,' he prayed as he ran among the fire that was consuming the walls. Spells whizzed by, missing him by millimeters each time. Finally, the broom closet came into view and he ripped it open. Grabbing his broom Harry ran down the wall to the window at the end. Never slowing, he dived through, feeling the glass shatter around him as he rolled on the grass. Willing his bleeding body to move, he got up and ran. To his surprise, a figure about his size stood in his path.

"Where do you think _you're_ going Potter," the voice of Draco Malfoy said as he whipped out a wand and removed the hood. It was this hateful hellspawn that had no doubt told all the Death Eaters he knew about the house. It was his fault that his aunt and uncle were dead; his fault that he was alone again; his fault that he was now homeless; it was his FAULT! Roaring with rage, Harry dropped the broom and reached for his wand in one quick motion.

"_Locomotor Mortis_," Harry screamed. The wand shuddered and blasted out the spell with the bang of a gun. Malfoy tried to dodge, but the beam hit his leg. Rendered useless, Malfoy could not run. Instead, he shot a spell of his own.

"_Crucio_," he chanted and Harry was filled suddenly with a soul-searing pain. His skin was on fire and turning inside out at the same time. He did not know if he fell to the floor or not, could not feel the grass or wind, just the unbearable pain. As he screamed, the sneering face of Draco Malfoy filled his vision. He was laughing at him, at his agony! Harry's screams of pain became cries of rage as a bright sheen of energy covered his body, shielding him from the spell. He was gone, all that remained was hatred as he ran at the boy and slammed him into the ground. Malfoy looked up in horror as Harry's wand was once again thrust between his eyes. What scared him the most were the eyes. There was no emotion in them, almost as if he were a mindless demon. There was a blast of hot air as the wall behind the two boys collapsed. In a flash Harry was on his broom, his consciousness returning as he flew into the air.

"Get him, he's getting away," one of the Death Eaters said frantically, already envisioning the punishment Lord Voldemort would deal out if Potter escaped. Suddenly, Lucius appeared next to him.

"Don't worry so much Stevens," Malfoy Sr. said as he aimed his wand at the retreating figure. "Potter is as good as dead. _Incendio_!" A ball of fireshot from the wand and flew toward Harry. There was a blast of light and a ball of flame could be seen falling. Lucius looked over at his son on the floor. Their eyes met, volumes spoken between them as the father vanished in with a loud _crack_. The others followed suit, the _cracks_ like lightning in the sky as firefighters rushed to stop the house from burning into the ground.

Harry welcomed the cool wind on his wounds, a smile splitting his face over his victory. All of a sudden the stars in the night sky were consumed with flame as breath was forced out of his chest. He was aware of a burning sensation on his hands and legs. The Nimbus was burning! Harry pushed off the broom and plummeted to the ground. The world spun in circles: stars, grass, stars, grass. He landed hard on his back, his body bouncing from the impact. The pain made him groan pitifully as the corners of his eyes darkened. The stars spun and the world went black.

It was in all the newspapers. 'Family killed in mysterious fire. Cause is still unknown. Foul play suspected.' The Daily Prophet ran a different article- 'Home destroyed by Rogue Death Eaters. Rumored to be home of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.' News traveled across the wizarding world about the deaths, reaching Arthur Weasley within two days of the incident, the rumor confirmed. Taking the day off, he hurried to the Burrow to break the news. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears when she heard. Fred and George held her solemnly as her body shook with sobs. Ginny sat at the foot of the stairs; tears ran silently down her face. Ron could feel a shiver run through him. The house that had burned, it had been Harry's. He was gone, dead. Elsewhere, Hermionie was just finishing her first letter to Harry when a barn owl dropped her copy of the Daily Prophet on her windowsill. She sealed the letter, looking around to make sure no one was looking, and kissed the name in loopy cursive before giving it to the waiting owl. Once it was gone, she opened the paper cheerfully. At first, the picture on the front page seemed like a sign. But when she read the headline she gasped. 'No it can't be,' she thought to herself, even as the tears ran down her face and she threw the paper on the ground, sobbing into her hands. 'He can't be gone!' There on the front page of the Daily Prophet was a moving picture of Harry smiling awkwardly for the camera, his glasses slipping down his nose. Underneath it was the caption:

'Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1988, deceased June 28, 2000. May He Rest In Peace'


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N**: Hello everyone! Since I forgot to introduce myself in Chapter One, i figured maybe now would be a good time. My name is SoulTears and this happens to be my first fanfic ever! Yeah, I finally worked up the nerve to do this! All criticisms are welcome and will be considered carefully. That said, if you feel the need to flame me, then do so at your own risk. Alright, I'll stop talking and let you get to the fanfic! See you at the end!

By the way, i don't own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, i am in no way affiliated, blah, blah, blah...

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**Chapter Two: The Training on Mt. Nowhere and the Summoning of the Four Founders **

Harry grimaced as the light of the sun assaulted his eyes. He tried to stand, but the pain was too much. He remembered being on the broom, flying away from the burning house, but after that was a blank. He inhaled sharply and could smell the dampness of a cave. He opened his eyes again to find a pair of half-moon spectacles gazing down at him. It was Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning Harry," he said softly. "Try not to get up yet or your wounds may reopen. I must say, you were in quite a state when I found you among the grass and I'm afraid my healing skills are not that extensive." Harry took deep breaths to ease the pain before speaking.

"Where am I?"

"In a cave high in the mountains, two hundreds miles from any form of civilization, Muggle or otherwise," the Headmaster answered. "I brought you here to nurse your wounds and keep safe. It seems Riddle has decided to make his move." Harry sighed at the name.

"So Voldemort has returned," he said.

"Oh no, not yet, but soon. He has possessed another body and is rallying the Death Eaters once again. Very soon he will return to his former state and threaten the world again." Harry could feel his stomach sink painfully to his toes. Voldemort is back; he had sent Malfoy and the others to destroy his home. His last living relatives gone in a flash of green light just like his parents. The anger began to build in him again. Dumbledore looked over at him. "You mustn't let this news get to you. You have to stay strong Harry. I have another reason for bringing you here. I have decided to train you in the art of dueling and will teach you offensive and defensive spells. You must learn everything I'm going to teach you quickly, for this place will not remain secret for long. Above all, you must live to fight Voldemort. That is your destiny Harry; you must fight and defeat Thomas Riddle." Harry could feel a heaviness come over him at Dumbledore's words. 'So much for wanting something to happen,' he thought as he fell asleep.

The next day Harry woke bright and early. He stood up and looked around the cave. Inside was a table and a makeshift stove on the right wall. Deeper inside he could hear the roar of rushing water. Harry turned and walked to the opening where the sunlight poured through. He sat at the edge, feeling his legs dangle over the side. The sun had not fully risen and it seemed to climb the mountain as it trudged to its destination. Daring to look down, Harry beheld a large valley covered in a fine layer of fog. Trees were placed sporadically around the expanse of land, but there were no houses or indeed any living thing at all. He was totally alone. A crack of lightning sounded behind him. It was Dumbledore, many boxes appearing around him.

"Oh, you're up," he said by way of greeting. "Well, it seems the whole world thinks you are dead Harry, which I must say is wonderful news." Harry was confused. Seeing the look on his face, the old man replied, "If everyone thinks you are dead, then no one can tell Voldemort or his Death Eaters where you are. It buys us more time, which we desperately need. In these boxes I have all the things we'll need for your training, so if you want, we can start right now." Harry turned and looked at the rising sun again. 'So I'm dead, huh? Poor Ron and Hermionie, I hope you're okay.' Taking in all the mountain air he could, Harry entered the cave to start his training.

Hermionie fought back the tears as she looked at the smooth white casket with the words 'Harry James Potter' written in gold. It lay on the gurney majestically, almost as if it were too pure to be desecrated by dirt. She tightened her grip around her mother's arm as the priest ended the ceremony with a Sign of the Cross. All around her were friends and admirers of Harry and not a single eye was dry. She looked over at the Weasleys, their bright red hair flaming above their solemn heads. Ron looked over at her and offered a sad smile, which she returned gratefully. After a moment of silence, the priest asked that the audience pay their final respects before the casket was lowered. The group made a line, dropping various items. After the admirers came the Hogwarts students, then the Ministry of Magic, and finally the closest thing Harry had had to a family, the Weasleys. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went first, followed by Bill and Charlie who had Apparated from abroad no more than two hours ago, Percy, the twins, Ginny, and Ron, who stood with his hand over the polished wood for some time. Hermionie went to him, taking the spot beside him.

"I still can't believe it," he said softly, his words were whispers of the wind. "I can imagine him sitting next to me in Dark Arts class cracking jokes about Lockhart." His face twisted in an effort to hold it in. "He was my best friend, you know. He stood up for me and never made me feel bad about never having any money. Now he's gone, and I never got to thank him for it." A tear broke through and Ron looked away. 'Good-bye Harry.' Hermionie embraced him, her cheek on his shoulder. This tender expression was too much for his resolve and he broke down.

"I know it hurts Ron, and that kind of pain will never go away. But, I think its time to move on, become something of ourselves so that he can be proud of us, wherever he is." She could feel the reassurance that came with her words and it stemmed the flow of tears. They separated and Ron said he would see her at school. Hermionie faced the casket as the men came over to lower it down. Once it was down, she revealed the letter she had given to the owl. It had returned the next day. Her hands trembled as she brought it to her lips before letting it fall into the grave. 'I'll never forget you Harry, and good-bye.'

Harry sighed with boredom. Dumbledore had said he was going to train him, but all he seemed to be doing was work on a potion in the back of the cave. When asked, he would mumble something about "enhancer" before returning to the pint-sized cauldron. After a few hours of stirring and muttering, Dumbledore would come over to him and teach him a curse, a hex, and a jinx, in that order. Two weeks past. On the eve of the third week, Dumbledore came to him.

"Harry, you may have noticed the potion I have been brewing for some time. Well, it is actually an ancient enhancer that is designed to release many of the latent magical abilities inside of a person. If it works, your power will increase substantially. It is almost complete; all it needs is the final ingredient. Therefore, Harry, I ask that you give me your wand." The boy handed the wand over hesitantly. To his horror, the old wizard took it into his hands and crushed it into a fine powder. His throat was shut tight; the curses he wanted to hurl would not come. Sensing his outrage, the man smiled reassuringly before dropping the powder into the liquid. The cauldron shook as the liquid changed colors rapidly, settling on a deep green that pulsed rhythmically. Dumbledore turned to Harry. "I want you to drink all of the potion, down to the last drop. The reason your wand was the final ingredient is that by drinking the potion, you assimilate the wand into your system. Basically, you become the wand." The anger subsided slightly at those words, hovering just below the surface. 'You could have warned me,' he thought. 'Almost had a heart attack.' He went up to the cauldron, which still pulsed in a slow steady rhythm. A cup appeared in his hands, compliments of the Headmaster. He scooped up some of the liquid and drank it. It tasted like lemons, then oranges, then apples, and finally pears. 'Not at all an unpleasant taste,' was his thought as he scooped another cupful of potion. The taste seemed to get better with every cupful he drank until he was sticking his face into the cool potion and sucking in gulp after gulp. In no time the potion was finished and Harry sighed contently. He sat down, a silly smile on his face. Feeling euphonious, he fell on his back, staring at the ceiling. His eyes rolled to Dumbledore and he was surprised to see a look of anxiety on his face. At that moment, a blast of pain shot through him. His muscles jerked from side to side as they screamed their protest, his lungs collapsed and his mind was filled with pain. Groans escaped his lips and his face twisted in an effort to hold in the scream that would come. Harry wrapped himself into a ball on the floor. His veins pumped fire to his fingertips. The world was ablaze with colors, great splotches of paint against the wall the masterpiece of a child. Sanity had forsaken him, leaving only the pain that consumed him. His lips parted and a scream tore his throat. Its echo bounced off the mountains like the answer of a chorus to the lead. The sun summoned clouds to block the noise. Harry rolled his body, his mouth shouting obscenities, to which Dumbledore looked on sadly but silently. After what seemed like an eternity, the hellish brand finally released his body, leaving him shaking on the floor. Albus waited with bated breath as the boy got to his feet, wincing with each movement until he was standing, wobbly, but standing. Harry panted heavily as he fixed his angry gaze with Dumbledore, who was now smiling.

"Now," he said, "The _real_ training begins." And so for six months the old man unleashed hell on the unsteady hero. The potion Harry had drunk did indeed make him stronger, but it reduced his control of the magicks. Instead of focusing the spell through his wand, he now had to learn to visualize the incantation in his mind and to concentrate the magic into his palm. Once that was done, he was to visualize a gun firing and release the magic. Needless to say, it took some time. Nevertheless, Harry learned quickly and soon was on par with Dumbledore, unintentionally surpassing him sometimes. On the first day of February, Albus announced to Harry that the training was over.

"There is nothing more I can teach you, but it will not be enough once Voldemort has returned to his original strength. Therefore, it is time to begin the second part of your training. Every Headmaster of Hogwarts is taught a special summoning spell on their first night as Headmaster. This spell could be used to summon the spirits of the Four Founders. However, the Summonosius spell could only be used in time of great distress and only to train the Chosen One."

"The Chosen One?"

"The one who would save the world from destruction," answered Dumbledore. "One is born every two centuries. This time it is you. By using the Summonosius spell, I can call the Four to train you. It will be painful, much worse than my tutelage, but I believe you can I endure it. Now stand back, for this spell requires a good amount of distance." Albus stood up and brandished his wand. Holding it in front of him, he began to chant.

_"Spirits of the World Beyond, heed my words. I call from the Depths the souls of the Four who built the Great School. Come forth and train the One who is Chosen. Make him the Hero he is destined to be. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin of the Hogwarts Four, I summon thee!"_

As he chanted, a blinding light enveloped Dumbledore and the cave shook. The roar of water in the depths of the cave grew louder, until it filled Harry's ears. The roar was punctured only by otherworldly screams that seemed to scorn the two in the darkness. All at once everything stopped. The darkness deepened inside the crevasse, leaving only the feeble rays of the sun. Harry cautiously opened his eyes. Dumbledore stood with his wand pointing at the ceiling. The tip glowed and the man's figure distorted before disappearing into the dark, a wide gaping hole in his place. The boy could see the silhouette of four people standing together. The large figure on the far left stepped through.

"First of the Hogwarts Four, Godric Gryffindor," he said. This wizard stood at a staggering seven feet and was clad head to toe in silver armor that clung tightly to his skin. His helmet was smooth with golden hair protruding from the tip. He wore a long red cape with an emblem of a lion emblazoned in the center. On his left side Harry recognized the sword, the same one he had used against the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. In his right hand was a long oak wand with gold on both ends and silver handle, which he twirled like a gun. As he walked up to him, Harry realized with shock that although the armor occasionally clashed, there was no sound at all! The giant moved to the side to allow the next Founder to make Her entrance.

"Second of the Hogwarts Four, Rowena Ravenclaw!" All Harry could think about this Founder was that she seemed both beautiful and stern. She wore a deep brown dress that clung to her upper body before flowing outward on the bottom. Her black hair was picked up in a simple ponytail that rested over her right shoulder. Her cheeks were sharp and her blue eyes ice-cold. Her wand, short and made of petrified wood, lay on her belt. Her eyes fell on the boy and he felt like he was being X-rayed. Then she went to join Godric. The next figure crossed the portal.

"Third member of the Hogwarts Four, Helga Hufflepuff," a cheery voice said. A short and plumb woman in her early forties appeared. Her hair was packed into a bun and the rotund cheeks glowed with good-natured color. She wore a black robe with brown spots on the knees. Her hands were slightly brown and she held a light green wand in her hand. A smile from ear to ear filled her face when she beheld Harry. Before he could react, the woman had wrapped him in a bone-crunching hug. "Ooh, you are the cutest thing I have ever seen," she said in the same cheerful voice and he could feel himself blush, both from the comment and the constriction of his lungs. Just when he felt he could no longer breathe, the woman let him go. That only left…

"Fourth and final member of the Hogwarts Four, Salazar Slytherin," an oily voice in the portal said. The final Founder was a pale man of average height with oily hair slicked back and cheeks sunken in slightly. His lips were thin and his reddish eyes were narrow and calculating. His robes were a thick, coarse black fiber that seemed heavy, but it was his wand that drew attention. It was made of obsidian and had the carving of a snakehead on the tip, mouth open to expose the fangs. The head was connected to a venomous green body that winded the entire length of the wand, stopping at the handle. Slytherin locked eyes with Harry. His mouth opened and a hissing escaped his lips.

"Filthy, useless half-blood byproduct."

"So is your Heir," Harry fired back in Parseltongue. Snarling, the man reached for his wand. A loud bang behind him made him stop.

"That's enough, Salazar," Rowena said in an irritated voice. "Fighting this boy will not change the fact that your Heir failed to realize your pointlessly ambitious dream of 'purity.' Remember that you, as well as the rest of us, are bound by the Summonosius spell. This boy is the Chosen One, so we must train him to master our crafts so that he stands a chance against this new evil."

"Excuse me Rowena if I caused you any dissatisfaction," the man said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His eyes locked eyes with Harry again. "I still don't see how this half-breed can save the world," he mumbled as he walked deep into the cave.

"Don't mind him dear," Helga said, her eyes following the Founder. "He's usually very polite. It's just the news about his Heir has him rattled. Give him time, he'll warm up to you eventually." Harry watched the retreating figure with disdain, and then remembered about his Headmaster. When he asked where he was, Helga answered, "He is the Space Between Worlds, where we reside. You see, when a Headmaster uses the Summonosius spell, it requires an exchange of bodies. The caster takes our places and gives up his flesh, which allows us to take corporeal form. Don't worry about Dumbledore; he is quite fine in the Space. Now, I would like to go down into the valley and see we can do about dinner, hmm? _Apparition_!" There was a loud crack and the Founder disappeared. Godric and Rowena walked over to the entrance of the cave, whispering amongst themselves. At the edge they parted, Godric leaping into the air and Rowena re-entering the cave.

"Get some rest," she said to Harry without looking at him. "You will need your energy for tomorrow." She continued walking, following the source of the roaring water, and disappearing into the darkness of the cave. Harry felt a great wave of fatigue come over him and he fell back on the ground. His eyelids were lead weights, sleep beckoned, and before he knew it, he was asleep. He floated in his dream world of shapeless colors and blobs. One of the blobs stopped floating and took form. It was Dumbledore.

'Harry, this will be the only way that you and I may communicate. I urge you to follow all their instructions.'

'Are you asking me to trust Salazar Slytherin, Dumbledore? His Heir is Voldemort! Why is he helping us anyway?'

'I am well aware of Slytherin's relationship with Riddle, Harry. However, Salazar has his own reasons for doing what he is doing. I'm afraid you are going to have to ask him that yourself. I must go now, Harry. Trust in the Founders, they will not fail you.'

'Wait! What about-' but Dumbledore was gone. The boy laid down on one of the blobs with his head resting on his hands. The blobs above him began to spin and take shape. There was Ron throwing Scabbers across the room as usual, cursing about having him neutered the next time he bites his finger, then the image changed to Hermionie with his nose buried in a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_. She would look up at him and smile before returning to the book. All around him the blobs became chairs and a fireplace appeared on his right. Soon, the blobs had changed into the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts. Neville Longbottom sat in the chair by the fire; his face squinted into a look of worry. He had forgotten something again. Next to him was a first-year. His hand trembled as he wrote furiously on a sheet of paper. There was another group of unknowns over by the wall with their heads close together. Harry could feel himself descend until his feet touched the wooden floor. He could feel the heat from the fire and heard the whispering of the first-years. He was reminded of the experience with Riddle's diary. 'Maybe I'm in the past again, but whose?' There was the sound of the entrance squeaking open. He turned to see whom it was and was met with a shock. Ron came in, but he wasn't alone. Next to him was a girl of about his age. Harry's mind searched for a name, and came up with Parvati Patil. She was snuggled up against him, a silly look on her face. Ron beamed at everyone who was looking. 'Ron has a girlfriend? When did this happen? This can't be the past! It must be the present, or the future. Wow Ron, good on you man. Glad to see you that you found someone for yourself.' The couple walked toward the fireplace adjacent to Neville, who looked up and smiled as a greeting before resuming his pondering of the fire. 'I wonder where Hermionie is.' No sooner did Harry think this that the scenery changed. The fire and the students disappeared, replaced by shelves of books and a long row of tables. At the farthest table was a long stack of books. Smiling, Harry went up closer. Sure enough, Hermionie sat in the center writing at an alarming pace as her eyes scanned three different book pages at once. Her hair was matted slightly, but the curls still stuck out in all directions. Her neck was wet with sweat and her breathing was irregular. 'Yep, same old Hermionie,' he thought as he looked over her shoulder at what she was writing. On the top it read "Astrology and its Importance in the Shaping of Destinies." She was on her third sheet of paper already. "Slow down," he said by her ear, figuring that he was a phantom, "You'll tire yourself out." To his surprise, Hermionie dropped her quill and looked around suddenly. Her face was right in front of his and he could feel her breath and hear her whisper, "Harry?" She had heard him! In a panic he ran backwards, his body going through shelves and through the wall. The blobs returned and he was floating again. 'She heard me. She actually heard me. This is…incredible! Alright, now I can talk to them whenever I want!' All around him the blobs receded suddenly, pooling together to form Dumbledore. He seemed angry.

'Harry, I implore you never to do that again. If you do it will endanger both Ron and Hermionie. They must believe you are dead. Should there be any doubt Voldemort will be on them in an instant. Please Harry, never do that again.' The happiness he had felt was stripped away by those words. The Headmaster disappeared again, leaving Harry floating in the darkness.

Hermionie stood up from her books. She could have sworn she had heard a voice right by her ear. The first word out of her mouth had been 'Harry.' But that was silly! Harry is…gone. It must have been Ron playing a joke. Ever since he started going out with Parvati, he had become so popular that he hardly ever spent time with Bookworm Hermionie anymore. 'I realize that he has an image now, and how important that is to him, but couldn't he at least talk to me break or lunch, or even during class! Just let me know you acknowledge my existence.' Hermionie shook her head and smiled. Ron was her best friend. No matter how popular he got, there was no way he was going to forget about her. Newly reassured, the young girl sat and resumed her homework.

The next day, or to be more accurate early godforsaken morning, Harry was awoken by a loud bang that made his ears ring. His eyes ripped open and beheld the face of Godric Gryffindor staring sternly at him.

"Wake up! Its time for training," he said, spit flying from his lips onto the boy's face. Harry scrambled up, only to be pushed back down again. "Did I ask you about the throat as the ground rushed to wrap him in its fatal embrace. His mind spun into action and he thrust his palms against his chest and yelled, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Just as the tallest rock was about to impale him, Harry stopped moving. He looked around frantically and saw Gryffindor standing in front of him, a gigantic sneer on his face.

"Excellent choice, Potter," he said. "You used the Levitation Spell to stop you from slamming into the ground, very quick thinking. _Stupefy_!" The spell hit him on the forehead and Harry fell hard against one of the spikes. "Lesson One: you must be on your guard at all times when facing an opponent! Never allow your concentration to be focused on just one spell, always keep an eye open to see what the enemy is doing or you will die, understand?" Groaning and clutching his head, Harry nodded. "Good, then come at me with everything you have," Godric said as he took his dueling stance. Pushing away the pain, the boy took his stance as well, placing his hands in front of him in an 'X'. For a moment there was no movement from either of them. Harry went first, shooting the Disarming Spell at the Magic Knight, which was deflected easily. Godric ran toward Harry, his hand on his sword handle. The boy dove to the left, just barely missing the blade as it cut through his shirt but not his skin. Taking a chance, Harry fired the Disarming spell again. This time the sword and wand were knocked away and Harry felt triumph. That is, until he found himself on the receiving end of the Founder's fist. Stars exploded on the inside of his eyelids as he staggered back.

"Did you see that," Gryffindor said. "You thought that because you had knocked my weapons away that I would be helpless. Here is Lesson Number Two: never rely on your wand or any weapon in your possession, for they can easily be stripped away. The only weapon you can rely on is yourself. That is why you were given the Enhancement Potion, to remove your dependence on your wand. Now," he said as the sword and wand returned to his hands, "Let us try that again. Come at me!"

Helga watched from among the bushes as Godric trained the Chosen One. Her hands worked busily as they reached for herbs to heal wounds as well as for salad. 'That poor boy,' she thought. 'So much death in his past, all at the hands of Voldemort. I wish, oh but that's silly. Wishing isn't going to change anything, right Rowena? Isn't that something she would say? Well, all _I_ can do is teach him how to survive in the wild as well as brew some healing potions. Oh, mimbleweed! Perfect for sore muscles! I think I'll take back a basketful.' A loud groan reached her ears as Harry fell to the ground again. 'Better make that two.'

Up in the cave Salazar watched the training. 'That boy is filled with anger, which is understandable. However, it is clouding his judgment, allowing Godric to take him down so many times. I shall have to teach him to control it, or my Heir will destroy him.' Behind him, Rowena watched Slytherin intently.

Spring in the village of Hogsmeade. The shops were packed with Hogwarts students bustling to buy all the sweets and gags they could at Zonko's Joke Shop. At the Three Broomsticks the booths were packed as the bartender passed out pint after pint of butterbeer, her mind on the verge of collapse. Over by a table by the entrance sat Hermionie with Neville and Ginny. Together they talked about whatever came to mind, mostly the Quidditch season. It seems Gryffindor had a real chance for the House Cup this year now that Ron had joined the team. As they talked, Ginny's hand crawled slowly toward the boy's. Without much surprise, the hands clasped tightly and disappeared underneath the table. Hermionie tried to suppress her smile. She remembered the day Neville had asked the youngest Weasley on a date. The poor boy had stuttered horribly and did not even finish his question, merely hung his head in embarrassment. Ginny had blushed a slight red before replying that yes, she would go out with him. Since then, the two were inseparable. That is, until Ron found out. He was so angry he had severed his friendship with Longbottom on the spot and forbade Ginny from seeing him. This did not sit well with her though, so the two began meeting in secret. 'They really are perfect for each other,' Hermionie thought. Ever since they started going out, Neville's memory improved dramatically. He no longer had to carry a piece of paper listing things to remember anymore. Also, it seems that his companionship with Ginny had also helped him physically. He lost weight in large portions and was all around better than he had ever been. His studies also improved. Even Snape found it harder and harder to think of an insult to throw at Longbottom. She could never see what the harm was in the two seeing each other anyway. It was obvious that they enjoyed the other's company immensely. Ginny also benefited from the relationship. Turns out Neville had a wicked sense of humor and wonderful taste in the arts. His specialty was floral arrangements. Almost every morning Ginny awoke to a beautiful bouquet of roses, tulips, lilies, and forget-me-nots on her bedside table. Many of the other girls were jealous of the mystery florist and often asked who sent her such wonderful flowers. Ginny would just smile and inhale the fragrant scent of the flowers. Neville provided her with an endless source of encouragement and support. He often smiled at her for no reason but to see her blush and smile back. Whenever they snuck out the two went to the greenhouses, where they would sit and stare at the moon as the plants swayed in their primordial dance. Much was shared in these outings that neither would tell, not even to Hermionie, who was the only one who knew of their comings and goings. She thought it was cute that they had a secret relationship and would often joke about it during lunch, always stopping before anyone could figure it out. They never had to worry about Ron, mostly because he was never around.

"So," Ginny said, her voice struggled to be heard amongst the din. "Want to go check out the Shrieking Shack? I heard it was haunted!" Before Hermionie could answer, the door to the Three Broomsticks opened to reveal Ron and Parvati, the Gryffindor Quidditch team behind them. She could see Ginny suppress a gasp and Neville's face paled. Ron's eyes roamed around the pub before falling on the three by the door. Within seconds he had reached them, his girlfriend keeping perfect pace with him.

"What are you doing, Longbottom," he demanded, his eyes burning with anger. "I thought I told you to leave my sister alone. What do I have to do to make you understand that you are just not good enough for Ginny? Give it up already, 'cause it is _never_ going to happen!" Neville lowered his head and Ginny opened her mouth to defend him, but Hermionie had had enough.

"Oh do shut up Ron," she said in a voice of the coldest ice. "Why do you insist on making a fool of yourself? You are the one who doesn't understand. You forget that the only person who can decide is Ginny, not you. As far as she is concerned, you have as much say as the ground you trod on." Ron looked at her with such amazement that it made her anger burn brighter.

"You're defending the porky little git," he asked her, his burning eyes now on her. "I thought you were _my_ friend, Hermionie."

"I am," she shot back. "But Neville and Ginny are my friends too, and they deserve to be happy together. You have no right to disrupt their relationship like this. What has happened to you? You are not the Ron I used to know, back when…"

"Back what Hermionie? What were you going to say? Back when Harry was alive? Is that it," he asked, the anger gone from his eyes, replaced by a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. But Hermionie would not give in.

"Yeah, that's right, that is exactly what I was going to say. Before he…died, you were always kind and friendly, but now you're cold and strange, not at all like before. I don't recognize you anymore."

"Well then, I have nothing more to say to you. I hope you rot, the three of you," he said. He was no longer looking at them, so he could not see the hurt on Hermionie's face.

"Fine, if this is what you want, then I will never speak to you ever again, and you must swear to do the same, agreed? Answer me Ronald!" The boy jumped slightly before nodding, his face still turned away. Without another word Hermionie, Ginny, and Neville walked out into the streets of Hogsmeade. Ron watched them go. 'I'm sorry, Hermionie,' he thought as the door closed and shut out the image of his friend forever.

Harry celebrated his fifteenth birthday in the cave on the mountain. Each of the Founders had acknowledged in their own way Harry's birthday. Helga had given him a thick vial with a potion that created entire meals whenever a drop touched a plate. Salazar glared at him as he passed him a package containing a glowing ball that would change colors according to his mood.

"So that you can always have control of you emotions," he had said, but Harry knew better. Rowena walked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek, causing him to burn with embarrassment. The burning sensation spread through him and left a cooling sensation in its wake. He could feel his muscles grow numb and then felt slight pressure against his skin as his glasses became blurry. He took them off and realized that he no longer needed them. She had enchanted him so that he was no longer held back by anything. It was a great gift and he told her so, but she merely stared sternly at him. Not fooled for an instant, he continued to look at her until he could see the corners of her lips twitch upwards. Godric was the last Founder to give him a present, which turned out to be a bodysuit made of a rubbery fabric that Gryffindor said was indestructible to any weapon. After the presents were given Helga started up a fire and began cooking for dinner. Using this opportunity, Harry decided to ask how the Four Founders had met. Salazar, as expected, excused himself from the group and disappeared into the cave. Godric and Rowena sat together by the fire facing Harry.

"I'll tell," she said as she fixed her dress. "I was the daughter of a prominent scholar and a duchess. My mother had always had a fascination toward magic, which would often lead to trouble with my father, for he was a practical man. Eventually, he crushed the interest out of her and she became the ideal aristocratic mother. She tried to teach me proper etiquette and the right way to greet guests into our home, but it seems her long-gone fascination had rubbed off on me. I began rebelling against them, immersing myself in the study of magic, learning whatever I could. Once my village could no longer satisfy my newfound thirst for knowledge, I ran away to the East. There, I learned many different spells from the Grecian and Chinese people. Along the way I met Godric. We had been traveling together ever since."

"I'll cut in here," Gryffindor said and began his story. "I was born in the ancient city of Camelot, a squire to one of King Arthur's knights. Ever since I had been a young boy I dreamed of being a member of the legendary Round Table and so devoted myself solely to the art of fencing and riding. Then one night as I was feeding the horses in the stables, a few of the other squires entered the stables. I would later learn that they had heard rumors that I would be the first to be knighted and were mad with jealousy. They grabbed from behind and brought me to the back of the stable. There they proceeded to beat me, their kicks and curses were like brands on my skin. All I could remember was feeling angry and betrayed that they would do this to me. I just wanted to defend myself but they were all bigger than me. Suddenly, the kicks stopped coming. I looked up and saw the boys up against the wall, their bodies surrounded by a kind of reddish hue. They were screaming in pain and lay suspended off the ground. I could feel a sickening thrill of pleasure course through me as I discovered magic for the first time. The next day the squires told their masters of what occurred in the stables. It was the word of five older boys against me. In the end, I was expelled from the order and forced to work as a peasant. My dreams had been shattered and I lived in a constant state of depression and anger. Some time after that, the great wizard Merlin, who told me that I had enormous untapped magical ability, visited me. He urged me to go on a pilgrimage to awaken it and become stronger. I took his advice and set out with a knapsack and a dagger. Along my travels, I met Rowena or more accurately, saved her."

"No you didn't! I had everything under control until you came in swinging that dagger like a miniature club! That centaur would have released me eventually you know. Anyway, after that I decided to watch the lost little boy (Stop it Godric!). I must admit it was refreshing to have someone to talk to after spending many nights alone in the woods. He proved to be quite the fighter when necessary, but most of the time he was just a clumsy oaf." Harry smiled at her words. He had always known that there was something between them, but he knew she would not readily admit it. "We eventually reached a quaint little village bordering a great valley. The valley was reputed to have every magical herb in existence, and Godric and I were low on healing potions. The villagers were kind to us once they learned of our situation. In the valley we met with Helga as she tended to a garden of fluxweed. She had always been cheery and took a liking to us. It was during this time that the village was attacked by a Welsh Green. Godric went off to fight. He defeated it but was wounded in the process. To this day he still caries the scar on his chest. After that Helga decided to travel with us as we made our way through the mountains. As we made our way down we stopped by a village made famous by its snake charmer, a man by the name of Salazar the Enchanter. He was performing in a tavern when we went in. He was a sight to see. Snakes were coiled all over his body, their fangs dripping venom. A slight hissing sound escaped his lips and the serpents slithered to the ground toward the tables. The women would jump back while the men bit their lips in suppressed fear. Their breathing would stop as a snake coiled around his leg, moving slowly upwards. Many of the women protested but edged further away. With another hiss, the snakes slithered back to him and coiled around him again. Turning to the bartender, he stuck out his palm. To our surprise, the man spit into the hand.

"You've agitated my customers, so you get no pay," he said with a sneer and a snort. "Now get out of here you freak before I knock your block off." What came next only lasted two seconds. Three snakes shot from Salazar's arms and coiled around the bartender, pinning him to the wall. At the same time the enchanter jumped over the bar and placed his face so close to the man's that their noses touched. A quick dialogue shot back and forth and the bartender handed over a leather pouch. The snakes returned to their master as he walked out the door, his hand clenching the bag tightly. I observed him and noted that he had the walk of an aristocrat. We decided to follow him"

"_You_ decided to follow him," Godric said sarcastically. "Helga and I were just dragged along."

"Of course you idiot. You wanted to stay in that tavern, did you? Maybe drink some ale and do a dance? I don't think so. Anyway, Salazar eventually led us to our first all magic village, Hogsmeade. It was incredible to see so many wizards in one place. We visited one of the pubs there and met with many of the community. At first they were suspicious of us, but once we showed them our ability they accepted us. There had been problems, it seems, with non-magic people trying to come into the town to steal the magic from the villagers. Therefore, as security, they decided that anyone who could not cast magic was to be killed on the spot. Their faces were squint whenever they spoke of the 'Muggles', which gave the impression that they felt superior. It was in Hogsmeade that I first heard the word pureblood. I never really understood the concept behind the separation of classes. After all, just because both your mother and father were wizards doesn't make you better than a Muggle-born. The only difference is that the pureblood would most likely know more than the Muggle-born but that was it. As for Salazar, he could have been the poster-boy for all-wizard aristocracy. He hated the 'commoners' he enchanted, though I never did find out why. He simply felt they were nothing more than mindless apes that deserved only to serve his every whim. Whenever he went into a tavern, it was not to entertain but rather to see the people inside squirm under the cold scales of his pets. Being a seasoned traveler, Helga decided to recruit him as a navigator. It took some prodding, but he finally gave in. Unlike our last addition, there was no farewell for him as we continued on our journey. Throughout the rest of our travels we witnessed the persecution of all things magical in England. The Druids and Gypsies were among the first race of wizards to be attacked, followed by centaurs, dragons, and other such animals. The four of us realized that if the persecution continued, then the bloodline of wizards would die out. For this reason we decided to build a school where children with magical ability could study in peace, never having to fear that a mob would come and hang them for being special. In this way Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry was founded." Rowena and Godric stood up, signaling that the tale was over.

"Well Harry," the fighter said. "I think its time for your final test of strength and courage. Come with me." Gryffindor walked to the edge of the cave and fell, the boy closely behind him. They landed heavily on the valley facing each other. "Attack me with everything you have. Your final test is to defeat me in fair combat. Be warned, I will not hold back this time." Harry just smiled as he took his stance. Neither moved for a second, each waiting for the other to begin. This time Godric fired a hex, which Potter evaded as he ran at his trainer. Gryffindor braced for the punch by launching one of his own. Their fists contacted and the two were knocked back. Now grinning from ear to ear, Harry shot three spells at once.

"_Expelliarmus_, _Impedimentia_, _Serpensortia_!" The first missed while the second hit Godric's left shoulder, disabling it. The third spell produced a snake that reared its head and hissed. The warrior was unfazed, leaping over the beast and bringing his feet down. Harry jumped back to avoid it. Just as Godric landed he bent his knees and punched upward. The boy caught the fist and let it push him up. Right when the Founder's feet left the ground, Harry flipped over him and threw him into the air. As he was falling, Harry concentrated his energy and fired spell after spell. Godric whipped out his sword and used it to block each beam of magic. The sword glowed with each hit and when he landed he shot every spell back at Harry. Stunned, the Hero jumped from side to side to evade them. Again Godric rushed at him with the sword, which he barely missed again. Harry was ready this time. When the Founder past him, he grabbed the unused arm and lifted it over his head, ramming his elbows numerous times into the Founder's side. The sword fell from his hands as he staggered back, a wide grin peeking through the helmet.

"Excellent Harry! Now we fight hand to hand," he declared as he swung with his right arm. Harry blocked and punched, catching him on the cheek. Back and forth they fought, until the sun made its trip down the mountain once again. Just as the last sliver disappeared, Harry penetrated Godric's defense with a right punch that pushed the Founder back. Harry leapt into the air and spun, bringing his right leg to kick his trainer in the head. Godric just barely blocked it, but the boy had tricked him. As the man reeled from the blow, the Hero landed and his swept his foot in a circle, throwing him off-balance. Gryffindor had not even hit the ground when he felt his pupil's right arm slam into his chest right where his old scar resided. The pain brought tears to his eyes that mingled with the sweat that dripped from his forehead.

"Hold," he said weakly as Harry stood to resume the fight. "I yield. You have beaten me Harry, congratulations. Here, take this as a reward for your hard work." The sword that had lain on the ground floated toward the victor. It was incredibly light in his hands as he did a few practice swings before sheathing it and tying it to his side. He held out his hand to Godric, who accepted the aid gratefully. Rowena appeared and took hold of the fighter's other side. Together the three Apparated back to the cave as a bed and potion was prepared for the tired fighters. Once the defeated was fast asleep, Rowena motioned the victor to the back of the cave for her training. Deep inside the cave was a deep lake that spanned for miles in every direction. Two enormous waterfalls that constantly poured water into the crevasse fed it. The ceiling of spikes was reflected on the surface of the water, giving it a bottomless quality. The first thing Ravenclaw had taught him was the ability to suspend his body in the air by using the magic energies inside and around him as propulsion. Once he had that learned she led him into the center of the lake, where they floated and meditated. Her knowledge of spells was unmatched by anyone in the world. If it concerned magic, then she knew about it. Under her tutelage, Harry became an Animagus. It was painful and exhausting, but in the end he could become a peregrine falcon at will. She also taught him the Unforgivable Curses and ways to counteract them. She told tales of Faust, the ultimate Dark wizard who sold his soul for power. This evil being created three destructive spells capable of decimating entire kingdoms and islands in the blink of an eye. These spells, Oblivion, Exorcism, and Genocide, were sealed away by Merlin after he fought and defeated the Dark One. The Forbidden Magicks were later lost for a time before they resurfaced fifty years ago. Now, Voldemort knew all three. However, when Merlin the Wise sealed the spells, he left a curse on them. He who uses a Forbidden Magick must sacrifice something of great value in order to perform the spell. Harry smiled at this statement. 'Voldemort has nothing of value, so it's safe to say he won't be able to perform a Forbidden Magick.'

"Today is also your final test with me Harry," Rowena said as their feet grazed the surface of the lake. "I want you to duel me using only magic. And, just to make it interesting…" she said as she waved her hands. The calm of the lake was ruptured as four great spikes of rock shot from the surface, forming a square around the two. Another wave of her hand caused golden bolts of energy to shoot from rock to rock, effectively closing them in. "Those bolts you see will hurt if you touch them, so try to steer clear of them. Also, they run underwater as well so you might want to stay afloat as well. Now, let's begin. _Stupefy_!" Harry brought his hands up and formed a shield against the attack. The force knocked him back and he could feel the heat of the boundary on his back. Ravenclaw was firing multitudes of spells leaving Harry with no other choice but to evade them. Unfortunately, one of the spells hit him and he slammed against the bolts. The pain that coursed through him made being struck by a meteor the equivalent of a bee-sting. Nevertheless, he pushed through it and sent a Stone spell at her as he forced himself away from the boundary. He took deep breaths, willing the burning sensation away as he formed a triangle with his palms. Concentrating, he made his hands glow with magic.

"_Eruptio_," he shouted as a large ball of yellow flame shot at Ravenclaw. The Founder was frozen in amazement. 'Such power,' she thought as she braced for impact. The explosion sent her to the boundary as well and she screamed with pain before pushing away. Panting painfully, she looked up at him and was shocked. The magic that emanated from Harry made the very air distort. His hair whipped in all directions; his green eyes were solid white and the water domed beneath him as he floated slowly toward her. He had surpassed her and she knew it.

"Enough, Harry, the test is over," she said to the boy, but he continued to move toward her. His hand was reaching for her when the white suddenly disappeared, changing back to green. Rowena was vaguely aware that the spikes fell back into the lake and the bright light that was spreading through the cave was gone.

"Did you say something Rowena," he asked her innocently. She stared at him long and hard. 'He does not remember what just happened?' The boy simply smiled at her, admiring her beauty as she floated like a goddess over the water. When she told him that he had passed the test he cheered. As a reward, she gave him a heart-shaped pendant that revealed the emotions of others, displaying them as colors. The two returned to the fire that was still burning. Now completely exhausted, Harry fell on the ground and drifted into sleep.

Dumbledore visited him in his dreams.

'Hello Harry, how are you,' he said, his eyes twinkling behind the spectacles. 'I see you have past both Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's final tests. All that is left is Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Your training under the Founders is almost complete.'

'I know that Professor, but what will happen to them when I pass the tests?'

'Well, they are bound by Summonosius, so they will return to the Space Between Worlds.' Harry's heart sank at his words. He had developed a bond with his trainers in the two years he had trained under them. It would hurt to have to say good-bye to them. A lump grew in his throat and he decided to change the subject.

'How are Ron and Hermionie?'

'They are doing fine in Hogwarts. The Triwizard Tournament was held at the school and Cedric Diggory represented Hogwarts and won the cup. The O.W.L exams took place this year. As expected, Hermionie passed with flying colors and Ron skimmed by an Outstanding. It seems there is some friction between the two, but I do not know why.' Harry had a feeling he knew, and could not help but feel guilty. 'Oh, by the way, Ginny and Neville are seeing each other, in secret of course. This, I believe, is one of the factors in the tension. Other than that, Hogwarts continues as it always has. Come sixth year you will rejoin it. Headmistress McGonagall awaits your return.' This was the first time Harry had heard of this.

'I am to return to Hogwarts? Why?'

'Sooner or later, this cave will be found. However, at Hogwarts you will be safe, for Voldemort would not think to look for you there. Also, I will need someone there to protect the students should he try to destroy the school. Now, I think it's time you get some sleep, for you have the last tests tomorrow. Do your best and follow your training. Good-bye Harry.' He disappeared, leaving Harry happy and confused at the same time. 'What did he mean by needing someone to protect the school,' he thought as the blobs darkened. 'He can do that easily…' The dream ended. The next day Helga approached him.

"Alright dear, it is time for my final test." She pointed toward a table that had a long line of herbs. 'I want you to pick out all the herbs that safe to brew. Then, I would like use to create a potion, which I myself will test. There _are_ poisonous substances among these, so be absolutely sure of your choice before picking it. You may begin." Harry stepped in front of the table and stared at the herbs, letting his mind wander. Slowly he brought his hand over each plant, grabbing one occasionally. Once the first hand had passed over, he repeated the process with his other hand. When he was done he piled the ingredients into the nearby cauldron and filled it with water, letting the flame underneath heat it to a boil. His mind still wandered as he stirred the spoon continuously. Finally, he turned off the fire and scooped some of the liquid into a cup and offered it to Hufflepuff. He waited patiently as the Founder sipped the concoction tentatively. Seeing as she had yet to drop dead, she decided to drink more. A smiled filled her face as she drained the cup in one gulp. "That was wonderful, Harry! I have never tasted such an exquisite mix! You passed dearie, you passed." She hugged him cheerfully and went to clear the cauldron. 'Only one more test to go,' Harry thought as the last Founder beckoned him into the cave. Salazar led him up a pass inside the mountain that led straight to the peak of the mountain. Just as Harry saw the sunlight pierce the darkness, the Founder stopped.

"Your test shall be here," he said, revealing a deep pit. Harry sat in the center with his legs crossed. Just as he was getting comfortable, hundreds of snakes materialized around him, covering him up to his neck, their hisses filling his ears. He looked up at the Founder, who was smiling evilly. "Here is my test: keep your eyes on me. Those snakes are enchanted to sense any emotion that you may feel, not just fear. I will be feeding you various images and you must not react to them in any way. Their fangs _will_ kill you, so I implore you to keep it in check." Without another word, Slytherin's eyes began glowing and Harry could feel his mind being probed softly. The cave was gone, replaced by the horribly familiar trees and cars of Privet Drive. The images blurred and became House No. Four. The driveway was empty, meaning Uncle Vernon had not yet arrived from work. The door burst open to reveal his aunt pulling a younger version of him out of the house. _"Get out of this house right now! Don't come back until I call you, you worthless little boy!"_ He remembered that day so vividly. The door slammed in his face and he began the lonely walk down the street to the park. On the way he stumbled on Dudley and his friends. They decided to play their favorite game, "How Hairy is Harry?" The object of the game was to count strand by strand how much hair Harry had. It was fun at fifteen, interesting at forty-eighty, redundant at one hundred twenty, and by two hundred and thirty the group released him and went about their way laughing like hyenas. Rubbing his scalp, the boy continued his walk of despair, his heart crying. The memory twisted, becoming nighttime. A blast of heat behind him made Harry turn around. A house was burning, the flames licking the sky. Suddenly, the scene changed and he was inside the house, the maddening heat encompassing him on all sides. All around him were bodies. He turned one of them over. The face he saw was Ron's; his lifeless eyes seemed to accuse him, blaming him for what was happening. He picked up all the bodies he could carry and burst through the door. As he laid them on the floor, he heard the house collapse behind him. A gust of air to his right revealed a tall figure in a coarse black coat. _"Harry,"_ it said, the voice a low hiss. _"Come to me Harry Potter, let me finish what I started fifteen years ago."_ Without hesitation he ran at the figure, his sword appearing in his hand. Feeling nothing inside, he slashed at the cloak, slicing it in two. "So Salazar," he said out loud, causing the night sky to waver. "Why are you helping me? After all, my enemy also happens to be your Heir. It has always been a mystery to me."

"No mystery at all, Potter," he answered. They were back in the cave as the snakes continued to slither around him. "I am well aware of Voldemort's lineage, and that he was the one who had unsealed my Chamber of Secrets. The truth is, I hate that man. He is tarnishing my reputation with his stupidity." Harry was floored.

"I don't understand. He did what you wanted, right? 'Rid Hogwarts of those unworthy of studying magic' remember that? I thought you hated all Muggle-born wizards!"

"I did, Potter, but after millennia in the Space with nothing to do but observe, I began to doubt my philosophy. Because I was raised in Hogsmeade during the persecution of witches, I was taught to see Muggles as conniving and cruel, unworthy of knowing us. Even after my death this mentality was the norm of many pureblooded wizards. But over the centuries I have seen Mudbloods do many things that I would never have imagined them capable of doing, while the purebloods took all the credit for it. I could see the discrimination and ridicule the Muggle-born would endure and grew to admire many of them. Mind you, I still hate them, but I know that there are some who deserve respect, so it is a respectful hatred. The reason I train you is that Voldemort is using the superiority of purebloods and twisting it to suit his own depraved vision of power and immortality. He is ruining my name just to feel better about himself. He has to die." Harry couldn't help but smile inwardly. 'That sounds just like him too. To each his own I guess.' The snakes vanished in a poof of smoke as the Founder motioned for Harry to get out of the pit. "You have passed, Harry Potter. You are now the Hero, blah, blah, blah. Now go forth and conquer evil." He chuckled at the words all the way down the path. His chuckles gave way to pure laughter until he had to clutch his stomach and lean against the wall to keep from falling over. He reached the entrance to the cave and was surprised to see the Founders standing in a line waiting for him. It was Godric who spoke.

"Harry Potter, your training with us is over. You have now become the Hero. We are to return to the Space Between the Worlds to wait for the next summoning. On a more personal note, I have to say I'll miss you Harry. You were my greatest pupil."

"I shall miss our conversations," Rowena said. There was a strange gleam in her eye that made her blink more than usual.

"Good-bye Potter," said Salazar as he offered his hand to the boy. Never breaking eye contact, their palms clasped and shook. Helga could not speak. She simply sobbed as she gave him one last hug. The gesture was filled with so much love it brought tears to his eyes. It was the embrace of a mother to her child. She backed away, reforming the line. The cave darkened as a tear appeared behind them. It grew larger until it enveloped the four. With a crack of lightning the Hogwarts Four vanished, leaving Albus Dumbledore in their wake. The elderly man stood smiling sadly at the boy who was no longer a boy.

"Harry."

"Professor Dumbledore, welcome back," he said before turning around and exiting the cave. Just before he leapt, he called the sword to him. It floated toward him, landing in his outstretched hand. He jumped down into the valley. There he trained with the blade, swinging it in graceful arcs as fast as he could. His eyes burned as he swung harder and harder, the force of his slashes causing the air to whistle loudly. 'They're gone, all of them, everyone's gone. Why do they always leave?' Out of the corner of his eye he beheld a flash of red and gold plumage. It was Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. It truly was a beautiful bird to see. It's wings extended over three feet and its tail feathers were long and thick. The phoenix slowed and landed on Harry's shoulder, nipping his neck affectionately. It was too much; the weight of the world brought him to his knees, the tears salting the ground around him. Dumbledore could feel a pang of guilt as he witnessed the sorrow of a man before his time.

"So ends another year at Hogwarts," said the Headmistress at the end of year feast. "To all those who are leaving, you will be missed, and to those that will return again, the school is always open to you. Now, let the feast begin." One by one the tables filled with food as the students cheered. Hermionie sat facing Neville and Ginny near the window. The Hall was decorated in the colors of Gryffindor, the winners of the House Cup. Over at the far end of the table she saw Ron sitting with Parvati, laughing and joking with his fellow teammates. As captain of the school champions two years in a row, his popularity soared incredibly. The promise made in the Three Broomsticks had separated them beyond the point of repair, and it hurt her deeply, but it had been his choice. As for Ginny and Neville, they now openly displayed their affection, for Ron no longer bothered them. The empty seat beside Hermionie sent a wave of sadness through her. Every year she debated as to whether she should visit _him_ or not, and every year she convinced herself that she shouldn't. 'So much has happened since then. Harry deserves to know,' she thought as she picked her food. Suddenly, a boy took the seat. She looked up and smiled at Blaise. He smiled at her too and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. It was such a shock when he, a boy from Slytherin, had pulled her aside to ask her out. What was more of a shock was that she had said yes. It might have been loneliness or a need to feel special. Whatever it was, it proved to be a good decision. He was a great guy. He treated her like a queen and never questioned her if she would rather go to the library instead of spend time with him. He was intelligent and she found herself debating many world issues with him even though he was a pureblood. Speaking of purebloods, it seemed the love bug had affected even Draco Malfoy. He began spending most of his time with a Ravenclaw fourth-year, leaving his companions Crabbe and Goyle without a master. Rumors that the two were going out were confirmed. What struck Hermionie as ironic about the whole situation was that the girl was a Muggle-born without an ounce of wizard blood in her. 'Oh Draco, I'd love to see your face when you find out the truth.' She pictured his look of shock and surprise. His eyes would bulge out and his jaw will drop. He might even faint! Her laughter went unnoticed by everyone but Blaise, who smiled at her. The only reason he had asked the filthy Mudblood out was so that she could help him with his O.W.L exams. As soon as the N.E.W.T tests rolled by, he would dump her like the trash she was. The thought made his smile broader. 'If you only knew,' he thought as he chuckled underneath his breath.

Harry soared through the sky, Fawkes close next to him. The wind whipped against his face and carried him higher and higher as his wings reached for the sun. 'Now this is what being an Animagus is all about,' he thought as he flicked his wings and launched into a dive. The phoenix tried to follow but could not match the speed of the falcon. The grass of the valley grew closer and closer. Still diving, he turned to the right and exposed his talons for a second. Then, he retracted them and powered upwards again. His wings pierced the clouds and flew over them as the light of the sun filled his vision. The second dive was so steep it seemed as if he were falling straight down. The wind roared as he let out a cry of exhilaration. At the last possible second, Harry pulled his wings up and flew parallel to the ground, his body occasionally skimming the blades of long grass. He reverted back to his true self instantly. An exhausted Fawkes collapsed on his shoulder. He smiled apologetically as he stroked her feathers.

"I'm sorry Fawkes, I couldn't help it." The bird just sighed and fell asleep. Harry sat on the grass and watched the clouds roll lazily by. As he was staring at a particularly large cloud, he noticed a group of black of dots among the white. At first he thought they just his imagination, but upon closer observation he realized with horror that they were broomsticks.

* * *

Well? I think I did good, but its not really up to me is it? Hopefully you won't hate me too much for what I'm about to do. What am I talking about? You'll just have to wait and see. (Insert evil cackle here) Ja ne! 

SoulTears


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer**: Ok, here we go... I do not own Harry Potter or anything that concerns him, which sucks but what can I do?

Well, here's the next chapter. Hope you like it more than I enjoyed writing it!

**Chapter Three: The Duel on the Mountain and the Final Gift of the Sage before the Resurrection**

Before he could think, Dumbledore appeared next to him. Without a word he grabbed Harry and Apparated back to the cave.

"Harry, this cave has finally been discovered," he told him. "I will duel this group. No matter what happens, you must stay hidden. Do not, DO NOT come out of this cave for any reason. Do you understand me Harry?" Without waiting for an answer Dumbledore pushed him into the cave. There was a gust of wind and a group of voices called out to the Headmaster.

"Come out here old man!"

"The Dark Lord demands your presence!"

"Come out!" There was no reply. Instead, the air was filled with multicolored light. The group cried out in surprise. Harry could not resist the temptation and poked his head out to look. A bright white aura surrounded the Headmaster as he deflected the Death Eater's spells. Three bodies were already unconscious on the floor of the cave. Harry could almost taste the power that radiated from Dumbledore. Suddenly, a flash of golden light cut through the wizards. Upon striking him, it sent the Headmaster flying against the wall. Harry looked to the entrance and saw a tall man with long white hair and golden eyes. His wand, a thick stick of blackened oak as long as his arm sizzled with energy. Dumbledore stood up as the other Death Eaters backed away from the two.

"So," the old man said, "You took Frome's body, eh Riddle? I must say it is an improvement from your other choices." Harry looked back at the white-haired man and studied him. He was tall and lean with a bony face and teeth that were clearly outlined in the cheeks. He wore a heavy cloak and swayed like a puppet.

"Enough of the small talk Albus," a hissing voice escaped from the bone face. "I want the power you posses. But in order to do that I will have to kill you, which isn't entirely a bad thing. So I challenge you to a fight to the death, winner takes all." The two giants eyed each other, holding their stances as their optic orbs bore holes into each other's skulls. Suddenly, they both shot spells at the same time. The rays bounced off each other and they shot some more. Spells filled the air. The battle raged fiercely, the cave trembling with each burst of magic that hit it. The two wizards Apparated down to the valley, the Death Eaters right behind them. Harry crawled on his stomach to the edge and dared a peek. With amazement he watched as entire patches of grass were reduced to barren soil in seconds. The two wizards seemed equal in strength, until Voldemort called Dumbledore to stop. The elder man ceased his movements and watched his opponent tensely. Riddle reached into his robe and pulled out something Harry could not see. Some words passed between them. To his surprise, the former Headmaster of Hogwarts dropped his wand. A wide smile splitting the face of his enemy, Harry watched as the black wand was pointed at his chest. He clearly heard Voldemort cry out "_Crucio_!" Dumbledore dropped to his knees as the other Death Eaters joined in with their Cruciatus Curses. A dark rage pumped fire into Harry's veins as he watched the scene, but he did not move, could not move. In his mind he heard his guardian's voice. 'Do not reveal yourself Harry! No matter what may happen, stay in the cave!' The jeering laughter of the Dark wizards filled the air. Voldemort bent to take something from Dumbledore and disappeared in a crack of lightning. One by one, the other Death Eaters reentered the cave, mounted their brooms, and left the valley, until only two were left. The robed individuals ransacked the cave, ripping the meager furniture apart and tossing it into the roaring fire in the middle. Harry could feel his muscles squeeze, begging to release their wrath on them. Taking deep breaths, he looked over to identify the Death Eaters. One was a woman with beady black eyes with wiry hair packed tightly in a bun. The other was a tall, lanky man with wispy brown hair and eyes so sunken into his face he seemed capable of looking at his own brain. Propped up on the wall of the cave were their brooms, twin soldiers awaiting orders. The woman laughed out loud as she swept all the utensils off the dinner table before tossing it into the fire. Harry gripped Rowena's pendant tightly as it glowed with the blackness of his hatred and anger. He could feel his anger ebbing away, moving far from him into the sky when suddenly the woman picked up a vial from the floor. It was Helga's gift. With a cackle that would make a deaf man wince, she tossed it over her shoulder into the consuming flames. It burst open, its contents evaporating in the heat.

Harry snapped.

Before he even knew what was happening, the sword was in his hands and he heard the unmistakable squelch of metal slicing skin. The drag in his swing stopped suddenly and he spun around to face the male Death Eater. The man clutched his chest as a horizontal gash appeared and split him in half. His hands flew out to stop the fall, but it was futile.

"Beatrix," he said in a weak voice. "Help me, it hurts so much." The woman looked over at the dying man with a sneer before turning her attention to the boy.

"Lucky strike, kid," she said as she pointed her wand at Harry. "But you wouldn't get to have another one. _Avada-_" Her words were cut off as her wand flew out of her hand and into the darkness of the cave. There was the distinct sound of an object falling into the lake. The sneer, the hateful arrogance, the evil in her eyes was gone, replaced by fear and a slight awe. All Harry could think as he walked slowly toward her with the sword dripping behind him was that she had broken his gift, the only thing linking him to anything that resembled a mother. His mind went blank as the cave began to violently shake. The woman pushed up against the wall, her face a mask of defiance betrayed by her eyes full of fear. Harry could feel the room grow larger, moving away from him. His hands tightened to fists and he swung at the wall. His knuckles broke through easily as the woman let out a squeak. She crawled behind him and ran to the brooms. She was gone in a flash, leaving her half a comrade drowning in his own blood. The source of his rage gone, Harry collapsed to his knees. The realization of what he had done threatened to overwhelm him. His heart raced as he watched the Death Eater die. A million thoughts were running through his head when he suddenly remembered about Dumbledore. Harry leapt down to the valley to where the man lay on his back. His robe was torn and burned at the edges. His breaths came in ragged gasps and he clutched his heart painfully. Fawkes lay on his lap, tears running down its eyes. 'Not even a phoenix's tears will heal those wounds,' Harry thought. After a fit of blood soaked coughing had passed, Dumbledore spoke.

"Harry, Voldemort has taken a vial of my blood. He means to use its power to resurrect himself back into his own body." Harry shuddered at the thought of Voldemort wielding the magic of the Headmaster. But a question was burning the surface of his mind.

"Why did you stop your attacks, why did you let them do this to you," he asked, but all he got was coughing for an answer.

"There is no time for that Harry," he said, his breath coming slower and slower. "You must get to Platform 9¾ and board the train to Hogwarts. You must protect the school from Riddle. Promise me, Harry, that you will return to the school and will defend it, promise me." Feeling his lungs constrict at the pain in the man's face, he nodded his oath. A smile cut through the pain for a millisecond. "Remember Harry, no one may know who you are, not even the professors. Only Minerva may know. The less people that know the truth, the less that are hurt for information. Now, it is time for my gift." Without warning he cut Harry's right hand and clasped it with his own bleeding palm. A surge of power shot from Dumbledore to Harry, who reeled back for a second as the sky changed many different colors all at once. Once the feeling past, the man spoke, "Well, Harry, I hope you accept the apology of an old man for stealing your childhood and sending you into war alone. Goodbye my boy. I am sorry." A sigh trailed between his lips, signaling his departure from the world. Harry did not cry, merely held Dumbledore for a while. Finally, he stood up and had Fawkes help him back up to the cave. There, he summoned some white sheets and made them wrap around the former Headmaster. Four thin black threads sealed the sheet together. Satisfied, Harry picked up the body and walked to the lake. Floating on the surface, he walked to the exact center of the lake, where a crack in the peak shone ethereal light on the water. There he let the body hover just above the surface as he gave some prayers, the phoenix shedding tears over the loss of its master. With a Sign of the Cross, Harry let the body fall. Waiting until he could no longer see it descending, he walked back to the entrance and gathered his things. Using one of the shards of a silver plate as a mirror, he changed his eyes from green to a deep blue. To hide his telltale scar, he produced a black bandana, engraved the seal of Hogwarts on it, and wrapped it underneath his hair, which had grown to rest on his shoulders over the past three years. With a tap of his finger he cloaked the sword so that it blended with the surrounding area. The deception was complete. Once all his possessions were packed he grabbed the dead Death Eater's broom, a Nimbus 2001, and walked into the sun. Turning to view the abode one last time, Harry made the ceiling cave in, sealing it away from prying eyes. Mounting the broom he flew into the sky, Fawkes at his side. Together they headed to London. For two days they flew, stopping only to sleep at night. Upon reaching Diagon Alley, he discarded the broom and learned that he had arrived on June 27, the day before his death. Accustomed to the quiet of his valley, the bustle of the wizard's center was a welcome change. As he walked among the crowd with Fawkes on his shoulder, an owl swooped above him, dropping a letter in his hands. It was titled: "To he who wears the phoenix on his shoulder." Smiling, he opened it to reveal a letter from Headmistress McGonagall.

_Dear Mr. P,_

_If you are receiving this, it means that Dumbledore is dead and you have become the Hero of destiny. Although I am filled with sadness over the loss, the time for mourning comes later. For now, I have included the lists of books you need for your sixth year education, but I am quite sure you do not need them. I also ask that you buy a replacement wand, just for appearance, of course. Should you require any money, you will find all that was left to you by your parents in a different vault under the name Harris. The key for the vault is enclosed. I await your return with much earnest, may your trip be safe._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Minerva McGonagall_

Harry pocketed the letter and scratched Fawkes' belly. The bird cooed in response. The wizard bank of Gringotts loomed over them as they entered to make a withdrawal. The goblin looked at him long and hard, attempting to scare him into saying that he had stolen the key, but Harry won. He was taken to his vault, which contained all the money his parents had left him. Scooping up five healthy bagfuls of coins, he left the bank and began shopping for supplies. He bought a cauldron, all the necessary books, and new robes with the Gryffindor lion emblazoned over the heart. He smiled at the memory of his trainer and friend. After buying a random wand, he walked down to the inn at the end of the street. As he walked, the Quidditch store caught his eyes. He saw the newest broomstick called the Firebolt. Feeling reckless, he went and bought it, no questions asked. Needless to say, the cashier was surprised, but greed made him take the money with little hesitation. Now toting a brand new broomstick, Harry checked into the inn and fell asleep on the bed, again, no questions asked nor answered. The softness of the mattress had him dreaming before he could take off his shoes.

The next day the shops were near empty. Harry knew that they were all headed to the cemetery to pay respects to him. The idea made him laugh out loud as he followed the crowd to the cemetery. He struggled to suppress his giggles as some women burst into tears as they beheld his tombstone. He recognized some from Hogwarts, but most were complete strangers coming to pay homage to an idol they never knew. Once everyone was gone, he decided to venture forth and see what the world had thought of him.

Hermione walked slowly through the gravestones, her feet leading her to the grave beneath the tree. A bouquet of the reddest roses assembled by Neville was in her hands. She debated over and over as to what she would tell him, what he would think of all that has happened. Her thoughts were halted when she beheld a boy about her age standing over the grave of Harry James Potter. He wore a long black cloak with the hood raised. He stared at the grave for a long time before kneeling and touching the stone, running his hand through the engraved epitaph. She could feel a protective anger well in her. 'How dare this stranger touch his stone like he knows him or something!' The man-child stood up, the wind causing the hood to fall. Shoulder-length black hair swayed in the wind as his sapphire blue eyes continued to look at the grave. A black bandana was wrapped around his forehead, blending effortlessly into the rest of his hair. It was at that moment that she saw beautiful bird with red and gold feathers land on his shoulder. She was aware of her hands, no, her whole body shaking, but she did not know why. She did not know him, and yet he seemed as familiar to her as a brother. He turned and walked away from the grave, leaving her to catch her breath so that she could go talk with Harry. She just started talking, telling him of everything that had happened in the past three years. She recalled cheerfully the Triwizard Tournament as she cheered Cedric to his victory. She spoke of her first visit to Hogsmeade, how positively lovely it was, and even the Shrieking Shack had an inherent charm. She avoided Ron for as long as she could, but she knew she would have to say it.

"Ron has changed so much since you left us," she told the sympathetic stone, never answering, merely listening. "He started going out with Parvati Patil and he's captain of the Quidditch team. I realize this is good news, but all the popularity has made him cold and cruel. All he does now is berate the first and second-years. He has severed all ties with his past life. I…I feel so alone." There, she had said it, the sentence she had been denying for the better part of three years. She could no longer deny that there was a void inside her that not even Blaise or Ginny or Neville could fill. Only one person could do it, and he was gone. She was talking to his tombstone, but it wasn't enough, could never be enough for her longing heart. She missed him, oh how she missed him! The flowers slipped from her hands as she fell to her knees, her tears struggling in vain to penetrate the unworthy soil so that they may reach him. She never once noticed the falcon perched on one of the branches above the tree, its dark green eyes watching her intently. Once the girl had regained her composure, she got to her feet and left the cemetery, the sadness she had felt lifting.

Harry felt boredom sinking in as he gazed out the window of his room. Five weeks had passed since he had returned to civilization and there was nothing to do! He no longer found it fun to walk and admire the goods of Diagon Alley or to feel the evil of Knockturn Alley. Even the pubs that littered the shopping center have lost their appeal. In a last act of desperation, he decided to pull a Hermione and study the books for his sixth-years. Big mistake. Dumbledore and Rowena had taught him well. He was able to cruise through the majority of the textbooks within a week. Really, the only thing he did not know at all was how to Apparate. Harry remembered vaguely that all six-years learned how to do it, so he went to work looking for the spell. Once he found it, he studied it intensively, and in just two weeks he could Apparate wherever he wanted. His first stop was Privet Drive. Back on the familiar and hateful street, Harry walked along the sidewalk, his feet set on their destination. The lands that once held House No Four was barren and laid over with synthetic grass, the kind that you roll out in rows. Each blade was sickeningly green, and he was reminded of Aunt Petunia and her garden of peeping bushes. Walking into the center, he could feel memory reconstruct the house in his mind's eye. There was the living room with pictures of Dudley everywhere on the flowery wallpaper. To his right was the entrance to the kitchen where Petunia cooked the meals for her family and him. Behind him were the stairs that led up to the second floor. More pictures of the happy family, with Harry nowhere to be found. The door at the far end of the hallway was closed. Feeling his presence, it swung open to let him in. There was the same bed, with the same dresser and nightstand. On the stand by the bed was a black cage, the home of Hedwig. Harry suddenly remembered he had not seen her since that night. The memory brought sadness to his heart, but he pushed it away and Apparated back to the inn. His second destination was of course his home, the secluded valley. It was exactly as he had left it, right down to the patches of burnt grass. The cave was undisturbed, not a rock had moved. Every night for a week he sat in the valley and watched the moon lull lazily among the twinkling stars. That took care of nights, but it left the day open to everything and nothing. He sighed and plopped himself on the bed. As he lay on the mattress, his eyes rested on the Firebolt by the door, unused. An idea popped into his head and grabbed the broomstick. Concentrating, he Apparated to the valley. He decided it was time to practice Quidditch. He now had something to do while he waited for the day he would board the Hogwarts Express. Every day he practiced with the Firebolt and two clumps of dirt. At night he meditated for a couple of hours before returning to the inn to sleep. As for the innkeeper, he never asked any questions. Who was he to ask whom this boy was and why he never seemed to go home. Where were his parents? Who was he? So many questions that he forced away with the jingle of galleons. Who cares?

The day finally came when Harry had to leave for the train station. All that remained was naming the luggage so that it could be sent to his room at Hogwarts. Smiling at himself in the mirror, he wrote the name on the cases. Checking out of the inn, he headed for Platform 9¾.


	4. Chapter Four

It's not mine, it's not mine, not mine, not mine, wish it was mine...

**Chapter Four: Return to the Past**

Kristin Meyers popped her bubblegum as she read the signs of the London Terminal. Her faded blue jeans were cut on the knees and ankles. She wore a black shirt that clung tight to her, the words Bam written in Gothic lettering. The headphones around her neck blasted rock, somewhere between Evanescence and Drowning Pool. Her black hair had the faintest streaks of red running down. All this would seem natural in the US, except for the eyes. Kristin's orbs were a light violet that shone behind her sunglasses. She had just arrived from Miami the day before and like any good tourist, she was hopelessly lost. She had found Diagonally Alley well enough, but when it came time to get to the platform she was at a loss. It said 9¾, but all she saw was a brick wall between 9 and 10. The ticket also said to be ready to board by eleven, and she was pushing ten forty-five with nothing to show for it. Needless to say, she was a little worried. She had remembered seeing a family of redheads in robes walking with trolleys full of luggage. Kristin could make out the emblem of Hogwarts on the robes of the students. She wanted to ask them where the platform was, but before she could catch their attention they were gone, simply vanished into thin air. Ten forty-seven. 'Where the hell is this damn train,' she thought fitfully. As if answering, a tall figure in a Hogwarts cloak appeared at the entrance of the station, a trolley with supplies on his side and a beautiful red and gold bird on his shoulder. He was walking toward her, but she could not see his face. Hesitating for a second, she stepped in front of the teen.

"Excuse me," she said in a sweet voice. "Can you help me? I have to find Platform 9¾, do you know where that is?" The teen looked down at her and Kristin beheld his face. He had shoulder-length hair with blue eyes. He wore a black bandana over his forehead with the Hogwarts emblem stitched into it. She kept coming back to his eyes. They were strange; the blue did not fit with the face, which gave her the impression that it was not his true color. Hanging from a necklace of beads was a heart-shaped stone that seemed to shine different but soothing colors. He studied her for a minute before speaking.

"Let's see, 9¾, nine and three quarters. Well, here's Platform Nine and that's Platform Ten. Hmm," he said as he stroked an imaginary beard, his eyes fixed on the wall between the platforms. Kristin smiled at the scene. The teen turned to her and whispered, "Hey, come here for a second." His finger beckoned her closer. She came up to his side and he brought his finger to his lips, splitting a silly smile in half.

"Watch this," he said before thrusting his arm into the wall. She gasped as it simply disappeared into the wall without so much as scratching. Still smiling, the teen entered the wall and vanished. Kristin merely stood there, her hand moved slowly toward the wall. When she tried to touch the brick, her hand passed right through. She felt someone grab it and the teen's head appeared on the wall.

"Are you coming?" Without waiting for an answer he pulled her in. She brought her hand to her face to shield from the blow that never came. Slowly bringing it down, she saw an old black train that read Hogwarts Express on the front. Relief surged through her as she crossed the wall again to get her trolley. Once she was back on Platform 9¾, she realized she had forgotten to thank the teen for his help. She scanned the crowd and found him leaning against a pillar by the entrance to the second cart, his knee propped up. She went up to him.

"Hi, um, thanks for your help back there. I didn't quite catch you're name." The teen smiled the same silly smile.

"James, James Harrison. Pleasure to meet you." He offered out his palm, which she took and shook enthusiastically.

"Kristin Meyers, from Miami Florida. What grade are you in?" She didn't tell him, but she desperately needed someone to talk to. After all, it wasn't like she knew anyone here. Anyway, he seemed like a decent enough guy.

"I'm in the sixth year, how about you," they talked back and forth, developing a friendly rhythm, puncturing it with laughter. Once there was nothing else to say, the two stood against the wall, basking in the silence of friends.

Harry peeked over at the girl for a second. She had the earphones on and was rocking her head softly to the beat. He was struck with how cute she looked, with her slashed jeans, black t-shirt, and chewing gum. Not to mention her eyes, so piercing, almost like she could see right through him. She was a transfer from a secret magic school in Florida. There she would drive to public school in the morning and back home in the afternoon. The change of living in her school for the entire year was shocking and she voiced some concerns as to how she might be able to skip. She was a strange girl indeed, and he liked that. While they stood together, Harry felt a thrill of foreboding and he looked up. Draco Malfoy was walking toward him.

"Well, well, well, who is this," he asked Kristin, who was still rocking her head softly, her eyes closed. Angered by her inability to pay attention to him, he ripped the headphones away and brought them to his ears. "What is this crap? You a Mudblood or something?" Harry could feel his anger flare, but he did not move.

"What the fuck, dude," Kristin said angrily. "Are you some kind of idiot or something? Try that again and I'll punch you in the jaw." Harry smiled at Draco's bewildered face. His blasphemy did not go unanswered.

"What are you smiling at, freak? You think she's funny, huh? Well, I don't see the joke. Why don't you explain it to me? Come on, tell me what's so funny!" The words jarred through his resolve and his eyes flickered with the tips of flame.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I need to breathe and you seem to be in the way. So, if you don't mind terribly, _drop dead_," he said to the boy, his eyes locking with the shorter teen. Kristin giggled at his side, but he no longer felt like laughing. All he wanted at that moment was to grab Draco and tear off his skin inch by inch. His fist shook with the burden of suppressed anger. Malfoy merely smiled at him.

"Watch your step, newbie," he whispered as a girl walked up to him and he wrapped his arm around her. It was clear that she was a Muggle but he did not seem to notice. 'Or he doesn't know!' As he was walking away, Harry burst into a fit of laughter, to which Kristin looked on, puzzled. Shrugging it off, she placed the headphones back on and resumed her rocking. The train whistle blew and Harry motioned to her that it was time to board. Putting the music away, she wheeled her things to the baggage cart, making sure to place her things next to James'. Once on the train he sat in the compartment right in front of the door. Hesitating, she decided to go look for another seat.

"Where are you going," she heard him ask and she smiled. "You can sit here if you want." She walked in and thanked him. Nodding in response he turned to face the window as the train began to move. Kristin took the seat in front of him and turned the CD player back on.

"Did you hear," Neville asked the girls in the compartment. Hermione looked up from her book and Ginny faced him. "Word is that there are two new students! They're in the second car. What do you say we go greet them, hmm?" The girls nodded in unison and left their seats. They followed Neville to the second cart and kept pace with him as he slowed down to a crawl. He pointed at the compartment by the door, the same one she, Ginny, Ron, and Harry had shared three years ago. She looked over at the Weasley, her eyes wide with amazement. Taking a deep breath, Hermione knocked on the wall before standing in the doorway. For a split second she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Sitting by the door was a tall teen in a Gryffindor robe. His hair rested on his shoulders and she could just see his bright blue eyes. He turned to her and spoke.

"Yes," he asked, his voice smooth and cheerful. So familiar to her, but she knew it couldn't be him. Still…

"Um, just came to say hi. I'm Hermione Granger, this is Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom." The couple waved. The teen smiled mysteriously, as if remembering a private joke no one but he knew. The girl next to him was bopping her head rhythmically and did not notice them. "Anyway, we just wanted to welcome you to Hogwarts and, um, if you need anything, I'm a prefect." That said, the trio returned to the compartment.

"So what do you think Hermione," Ginny asked. "He was cute, wasn't he? Oh, Neville, never as cute as you." The boy at her side perked up at her words and clasped her palm. "Like I was saying, he seems nice and he's in Gryffindor!"

"That's true, but have you forgotten about Blaise? Besides," she continued, her mind wandering back to his face. "He looked kind of fake, you know what I mean?" They debated back and forth as the train continued on its journey.

Rubeus Hagrid was excited and did not know why. It had the anticipation of a rare visit, but that made no sense. The excitement grew as the train came into view. When the students poured out of the cars, he isolated the first-years and sent them to the boats while he ushered the other students to the carriages. Hermione waved at him and he smiled broadly at her. She had grown since he first met her in her first-year. Her hair, still as curly as ever, was still going every which way but he could tell she was trying to tame it. She had gotten taller and her face was womanly, more mature than any of the other girls he saw. 'And I know why,' he thought as the image of Harry flashed across his mind. The next face he saw was Ron's. After the argument in the Three Broomsticks, Hermione had come crying to him, babbling the whole story to him. Even then she did not say anything bad about him. 'He doesn't deserve a friend like her,' he thought angrily. But it all came back to Harry. His death had changed them both. He could feel the excitement be replaced by a mounting sorrow that brought tears to his eyes. Many of the new students looked up at him questioningly. He sniffed loudly and shook his head. He looked up just in time to see a student who did not seem like a first-year but was completely unfamiliar. Next to him was what Hagrid could only call an American. She wore a Hogwarts robe as did the boy but her hair was slicked back and had red streaks. She had headphones over her ears and seemed to follow the boy. As for him, he looked around for a moment before fixing his gaze on the gamekeeper. Those eyes! Like twin X-rays seeing into him. 'I know those eyes. Jus' like Dumbledore's!' He tried to call to him, but the group of first-years proved to be more than the half-giant could handle. The boy was gone.

Kristin watched with amazement as students boarded the horseless carriages and rode to the castle. As for the castle, she had to admit it was intimidating. There had to be at least a thousand windows all over the walls. Not to mention that it had a dark forest behind it and a huge lake on the left. To top it off, she had heard that there was a giant squid in the water! And that the forest was forbidden because it was filled with monsters! 'What kind of whacked-out school is this? The British are weird as hell.' James just smiled at these rumors and walked up to the front of the carriages. Slowly he placed his palm level with his chest, moving it left to right as if stroking an animal. He beckoned to her to come closer. When she was close enough he grabbed her hand and put it on something eerily smooth. His palm on top of hers, he guided her hand up the invisible creature until they reached what Kristin perceived to be a neck. She squinted her eyes until they were slits, but could not see a thing, even though her sense of touch clearly told her that something was there.

"It's kind of a horse, isn't it," she asked as she stroked what felt like a mane on the neck. Sure enough, she heard the pleased neigh of a horse.

"Sort of, but it has eight legs and is not something you would want to meet in the middle of the night." She smiled at the joke. "You're lucky actually. Only people who have beheld death can see them, that's why most don't know about them." A chill ran through her at his words. She looked over at him as he silently petted the horse. Something in his face wrenched at her heart. 'What have you seen, James?' All at once, she realized how old he seemed, how weary, completely different than what he was on the train and when she had first met him. He seemed as old as the castle itself. Then he looked over at her and all the things she had seen vanished in his smile. Throughout the entire time he had had his hand over hers, gently guiding her along the body of the horse. His skin was soft but firm and seemed to radiate warmth. Feeling a blush come over, Kristin quickly pulled her hand away.

"We should, um, be getting, you know, inside the car; I mean boat; I mean carriage!" He chuckled lightly before bowing to let her enter first. Executing a mock curtsy, she entered the carriage. James closed the door and took the seat across from her as the cart jerked forward. She tried to play the CD, but all she got was static. Annoyed, she shook the contraption, mentally cursing it to the bowels of hell for quitting on her now. Finally, in an act of defeat she slammed into the seat next to her and decided to check out the scenery. After all, the only thing she could see from the platform was the castle. Everything else she had gotten from overhearing the other students. But it was actually really beautiful. The school was gigantic and gave off a feeling of security. The lake was placid, the only ripples caused by the multitude of boats that were sailing on it toward the castle. As for the alleged giant squid, Kristin saw nothing. Indeed, the water was as black as night, a bottomless pit. She looked over to the right and saw a large stadium that looked like a giant centipede flipped over on its back. On the far ends were three hoops on poles high in the air. The seats were high as well, too high to see anything clearly on the ground. 'Wonder what they play there. Kind of reminds me of soccer or something like that.' In the background she could see a line of trees, the Forbidden Forest. It was clear immediately why it was called that. A dark, evil fog moved among the trunks of the trees. Images appeared in the branches and disappeared before she could tell what they were. Above the Forest, the full moon shone its light over everything. The cart stopped and the door swung open to reveal a thick door made of mahogany wood. The handle was ancient, more of a ring to pull instead of a knob. James and Kristin were last to arrive. She could feel their eyes studying her, scanning every inch they could for any imperfections, any reasons to berate her, effectively making them feel better about themselves. Kristin removed her glasses and revealed her individuality to everyone. Some gasped, while others murmured among their friends. Harry felt their gaze as well, and shot back with his own scanning eyes. Many that he caught looking at him turned away automatically. Others, like Malfoy and the prefects, stared back defiantly. But they too turned away. The door opened, its hinges squeaking loudly. As it clanged against the castle wall, Harry heard a stern voice call out.

"Will the two new students please step forward," said the voice of Headmistress McGonagall. Kristin heart sank. 'Damn' I'm in trouble already,' she thought as she walked up to the woman. Her eyes were cold and her bun screamed authority and repression. She looked over at James and was relieved to see him calm and collected. Indeed, he was smiling at the woman as if she and him were the best of friends. "Students," the woman said, "I would like to introduce you to Kristin Meyers, a transfer students from Miami Florida. She was top of her class in their coven, and her parents decided to send her to us to further her magical education." Kristin smiled awkwardly at the glaring students as they mumbled a greeting. What the woman had said was a lie of course. She _had_ been top of her class, but her parents had not known she was in a coven to begin with. When they found out, they were very upset and decided to ship her out to boarding school. Fortunately, her mother had allowed her to choose which school she would attend. Later that night there was a letter on her desk by the window addressed to her. It told her of Hogwarts and how it would allow her to become more affluent with magic. She was interested and was surprised to find another letter the next day informing her of her acceptance to Hogwarts. All that was left was convincing her parents that it was a strict school that has classes six days a week and allowed no outside contact of any kind. They fell for it and had her things packed within four days. Despite their anger over the witchcraft, it was clear that her parents would miss her. At the airport her mother had cried while her father hugged her, whispering that she be safe. It was a sweet gesture that almost made her cry, but her personality would not allow it. Still… some sweat beneath the eyes wouldn't hurt. Who's going to know? Its not like any of her friends had came to see her off.

"And to my right is James Harrison, a former student of Hogwarts. He left for personal reasons and has decided to return for the last two years. He passed all his O.W.L exams with incredible results and is very intelligent. Both are in Gryffindor, so I want the prefects to give them any assistance they may need. As for the rest of you, come in for the Sorting." As the students walked by James and Kristin, they hissed curses at them, calling the girl a Yankee show-off and James a goody-two shoes. She clenched her fists and muttered her favorite jinx. Before she could send it at them, she felt James hand on her shoulder. He was shaking his head.

"They're not worth it. Besides, you don't want to get in trouble on your first day do you? Remember, you are going to be living here for the next eleven months and your actions affect everyone. See over there?" He pointed toward four hourglasses with the names of the Houses over them. Inside each glass were many precious stones. "Those stones determine the points of a House. If a student in a House misbehaves and it is reported, points are taken away. At the end of the year the points remaining are tallied and the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup. So you see, if you attack someone, then those with the shiny badges will put you in detention and take away points. Just know that some teachers award points for questions answered correctly. Any good deed overall will be given points, so its balanced. Come on, let's go or we might miss the Sorting."

"Sorting?"

"Yeah, the first-years have to be Sorted, that is, placed into their Houses. It's really fun to watch." Saying no more he entered the castle, Kristin following his lead. They reached a set of open doors that led all the way to the ceiling. Beyond the doors was hall that could have easily fit a two-story house. Candles were lit and suspended in the air. Many long rows of tables were laid and teachers were herding the students into seats. Suddenly, Kristin felt an ice-cold feeling grip her arm. She pulled away and was shocked to see the wispy form of a man floating in the air. He wore seventeenth century clothing. She grabbed onto James and bit back a scream of terror.

"Hello Nicholas," she heard him say. She looked at him. "How are you?"

"Dreadful my boy," the ghost said without looking at him, "I'm thinking of just holing myself up in a bathroom like Myrtle and never come out again. And who is this," he said as he looked at the frightened girl with a smile.

"This is Kristin Meyers. She and I are new students here at Hogwarts." The ghost smiled wider.

"Welcome to our school! My name is Sir Nicholas-, you know what, you can call me Nick. Enjoy the feast," he said as he floated toward the front of the Hall. There was a long table there where the teachers sat facing the school. The Headmistress sat in the middle. James and Kristin took a seat in one of the tables on the left just as the first-years came in, a quivering, silent line of children. She followed the line until she saw a weather-beaten stool with a scruffy old hat resting on top of it. Next to the stool stood a tall sullen man in tattered clothes. In his hands was a large roll of parchment. Without a word he rolled it out. It was so long it fell to the ground and rolled to the first student in line.

"Adam Abernathy," he called and the boy in front stepped up the podium. He sat on the stool and put the hat over his head. There was silence.

"RAVENCLAW," yelled out the hat suddenly. Kristin almost jumped out of her seat and she heard a chuckle behind her.

"That's the Sorting Hat. He decides what House you belong to. It's only for first-years though. For transfers like us the Heads of Houses choose," he whispered to her as the hat called out SLYTHERIN. The list continued, from the K's (Damian Krum was named Hufflepuff), until they finally ended with Thomas Zachemia pronounced a Gryffindor. The Headmistress stood up, her back straight to the point of exaggeration.

"Welcome to another year of Hogwarts. This year we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, due to the fact that our last professor has not returned our summons. His name is Remus Lupin. I trust you will treat him with the same respect you give your other professors." The tattered man bowed at them before taking his seat. "Now, let the feast begin." She snapped her fingers and food materialized on the tables. Kristin grumbled with delight as she saw whole chickens, hills of rice, breads, pudding, all kinds of food were slammed into the plates. Forgetting etiquette, she reached over and began stuffing her plate with three of everything. Drink appeared in her cup and she drank every two bites. Once emptied, the cup magically refilled. All around her students ate and chattered. Harry looked over and spotted Hermione with Ginny and Neville. Farther down the line he saw Ron laughing with a group of sixth-years. 'They're so far away from each other,' he thought as he chewed his food slowly. 'I'll have to what the problem is and see if I can fix it because there is no way I am going to let those two be separated like that.' Nodding in determination, Harry took another bite from his chicken.

Once the feast was over, Harry led Kristin up the stairs, occasionally telling her who was the person in one of the paintings. When she complained about the moving staircases he simply smiled. Finally they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?"

"_Tempura Laude_," Harry said and the painting moved to allow her passage. He breathed in the smell of the common room. 'I missed this place,' he thought as he threw himself on one of the couches. Kristin looked around, her eyes wide with astonishment. She made a few circles so that she could get a full view of the room.

"Where are the bedrooms," she asked as she sat next to him. He pointed to the hallway on his left. He told her that boys slept on the right and girls were on the left. Kristin stood up to examine the fireplace when the painting swung open and a mob of Gryffindor students entered the common room. The chatter that followed them shattered the peaceful silence of the moment and Kristin found herself caught in a human tidal wave cresting toward the stairs. When the loud mindless crowd finally released her she was in a room with four beds. They were old beds, with antique posts on each corner with sheets for covering. Her suitcases were on the right side and a set of clothes for tomorrow was laid out on the seat. Right next to her nightstand was a one of the thousands of windows she had seen from the outside. A cool breeze blew through the hole and made her cheeks tingle. The door behind her opened as three other girls walked in. One of them had hair that could have nested three birds at once. The other two had it brushed back into loose buns. They hesitated when they saw Kristin.

"Um, hi," the bushy one said. "My name is Hermione, we met on the train?" Kristin could not remember ever seen such a horrendous patch of hair on anyone. As for having met her before her, she did not remember that either. 'Oh, well, might as well play along,' she thought as she eyed the badge clipped to her robe.

"Yeah, I remember. My name is Kristin and I guess I'm your new roommate." She looked over at the other girls, who were content just staring at her hair. "Um, is there something wrong with your friends or something? The staring is kind of annoying."

"Oh, don't worry about them, they're not used to seeing highlights," the bushy one, Hermione, said with a smile. "Lavender Brown on my right and Parvati Patil on my left." The girls broke out of their trance at the mention of their names and greeted her. Introductions made, they went to their respective beds, all except for the bushy one. There was a long awkward silence until the girl finally said, "So, I heard you were from America. What's it like over there?" Kristin perked up at her words. 'Finally, I was wondering when someone would ask!' She immediately launched into the tale of her life, complete with high school high jinks and all the late-night meetings with her coven in an abandoned construction site. Hermione found herself captivated by the experiences of this girl. She was savvy, with a wit that could charm a brick wall. When Kristin ended her tale it was already well in the night and the girl could feel the heaviness of sleep come over her eyes. Hermione sleepily said goodnight as she retired to her bed. Kristin, however, was restless. It was always like this whenever she tried to sleep in a bed other than hers. She imagined her room, her posters all over the walls and all her crap on her dresser in disarray. She could even remember the cutouts of all the guys she had had crushes on, her "little obsessions." The memory was too much for her and she left the room. As she was walking down the stairs, she saw yet another window. Feeling bored, she looked through it and was surprised to see someone on the field outside. Although she could hardly see him, she knew it was James, just _knew_. He wore black pants with no shirt and his bandanna. He twirled under the light of the moon, a line of silver following behind him. It was enchanting to see this tall teen spin and crouch in his primordial dance. Using her eyes, she focused harder on the teen until she could see that it was a sword he was seeing. Her eyes were wonderfully useful, allowing her to see faraway objects clearly as well as allowing her to see perfectly in the dark. She saw as he swung his sword, letting the power of his swing move him. Then, with a spin above his head, James thrust the blade forward in rapid succession. The steel became a sliver of light as his thrusts moved faster and faster, his face a mask. After a few minutes, the teen lifted the sword over his head and swung in a diagonal line from left to right. The force of the slash made the air whistle and she could swear she saw the trees thirty feet in front of him tremble. He sheathed the sword in one motion and it vanished. Without warning he leapt into the air. She watched in shock and awe as he changed into a large falcon. It beat its wings and was soon lost on the bright side of the moon. There was the piercing cry of the raptor as it suddenly appeared in front of her, its claws digging into the mortar of the wall. Kristin stepped back until she was up against a wall. The falcon grew larger as its talons changed to feet and the feathers receded like water running down the side of a car. The wings extended and separated into five parts on each wing. The beak melted into a nose and lips and the crown sprouted hair that fell down to his shoulders. Before her very eyes, the falcon had changed to James. He stepped into the hallway, standing in the light of the moon. He looked over at her.

"Oh, hi Kristin, couldn't sleep?" She just shook her head. "Sorry if I scared you just then, it's just something I do every night."

"But how," she finally stammered. "How can you change into a bird? That is so cool! Can you teach me?" Her shock was gone. In its place was a giddy excitement at having seen such wonderful magic. In her excitement, she had not noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt and he took the opportunity to conjure a shirt to cover himself. The questions continued. "Does it hurt? Does it take long? Can you be whatever you want to be?"

"Its called Animagi; it is very cool; I can teach you; it hurts the first time; takes a while; and no, you must perform the ritual every time you want to become a new animal," he said as he struggled to keep up with her. Finally, her euphoria had having seen his transformation had ebbed away, leaving her looking very tired. "You should get some sleep, you have a long day tomorrow." Bowing until he was at a ninety-degree angle with his legs, he bid the fair lady farewell, for it was time to retire to his chambers. She laughed at his eloquence and curtsied, saying that she too must retire to bed. Smiling, the two parted ways. Harry opened the door to find his roommates sleeping. It was a sheer stroke of luck (or maybe McGonagall) that he turned out to be in the same room he was in for the first two years. Seamus, Dean, and Neville had all greeted him warmly, but Ron was furious.

"You can't be here," he had said when he revealed himself to be their new roommate and would be taking the bed by the window, his old bed. "I specifically asked McGonagall that we stay as four roommates. You can't sleep in that bed, no one can. Its off-limits!" His angry tone had startled him but the words made him angry.

"How dare you tell me what to do? You don't even know me, you've only seen me for five minutes and already you're barking orders," Harry shot back, refusing to believe that his best friend had become such a jerk in his absence. They had fought until Ron stormed off, screaming curses back at him. The others were quiet as he left the room as well. He had gone to train to get his mind off the argument, but it bothered him. There was one thing he was sure of, this was not Ron but at the same time, it was more Ron than he had ever seen. He decided that what his friend needed was a lesson in humility. He needed Ron and Hermione together, they were all he had left. And then there was Kristin. She was a strange one, but something about her made him want to talk to her again. When he was returning from training, she had been there, as if Fate had willed the two to meet as he unintentionally revealed one of his secrets. She was unique, that much he knew. 'Nice on the eyes too,' he thought as he slipped into bed. Her face was the last image on his mind before sleep took him.

Harry woke bright and early and donned his robes for the day. He checked his schedule and headed for his first class, double Herbology with Hufflepuff. As he walked to the greenhouses, he saw Kristin with the same look she had at the Terminal. Sneaking up behind her, James brought his hands over her eyes and whispered in her ear.

"Guess who?" To his surprise, the girl turned and swung at him. Harry brought his palm up to stop the punch. "Wait, Kristin, it's me," he said as he caught her fist. The girl looked sternly at him.

"Don't ever do that again," she said, her eyes burning with anger. "You almost got yourself killed! I hate when people do that!" Her chest heaved with every breath and her fists were held rigidly at her side; she really was angry.

"Sorry, I didn't know. What class do you have now," he asked quickly, hoping to change the subject. Luckily, she too had Herbology. As the two walked to Greenhouse Six, he caught sight of the Whomping Willow. Its branches swayed in the wind. Harry remembered when he and Ron had crashed their car into the savage tree. Now, it seemed like the perfect sparring partner. Taking this realization and filing it away, he and Kristin entered the Greenhouse. Immediately after the door closed a thick spiky vine shot forward and wrapped itself around Harry. He was lifted effortlessly into the air as the entire class erupted in laughter. Professor Sprout was screaming.

"Don't worry Harrison, you'll be fine. It's just Devil's Snare, I'll have it off in an instant," she said as she readied her wand. Before she could detain the naughty plant, a bright light filled the room. There was a high-pitched squeal as the plant relinquished its grip and Harry fell to the floor. Landing lightly on his toes, he pointed his wand at the plant and a ray of light shot from it as it hit the plant. Satisfied that the plant had received its just punishment, he turned to face the now silent class. All around them were plants that moved and writhed on their own, their branches and leaves turned toward the light of the sun. Some had spikes, while others dripped disgusting yellow liquid. One plant in the very back, away from the class, had what looked horribly like a giant fanged mouth. Professor Sprout was at a loss for words. When she finally found her tongue in the back of her throat, she showered praises on him.

"Very impressive Harrison, your use of the _Lumos_ spell effectively detained the plant. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, then, you and Ms. Meyers can take the two seats in the back. Today, as your first day back, I think I'll give you a little treat. Behold!" With a wave of her wand, the most beautiful flower appeared in front of each student. It glowed with heavenly light and had three perfectly symmetrical blossoms that pulsed with a reddish hue. Many of the girls sighed as they admired the plant, while the boys simply studied it critically. No way they were going to admit they liked the plant. Kristin felt her hand inch forward to touch one of the blooms when a soft palm stopped her. She looked over at James, who was shaking his head as the Professor asked the class what kind of plant this beauty was. As expected, Hermione raised her hand.

"It's known as the Bloom of Deceit, capable of rendering a person incapable of speech just by touching it. It is considered among many to be the most beautiful of plants," she finished, her chin propped up proudly as she once again displayed her intelligence. Sprout smiled at her and awarded more points to Gryffindor, inwardly chiding her House students for not knowing the answer before continuing with the lesson. Kristin found herself bored out of her mind. The plant had been beautiful, but it was not enough to hold her attention for any period of time. She longed for her CD player and remembered that it had not worked since she had arrived. All she got was a buzzing sound and the screen flashed. Her eyes drifted toward the forest. Even during the day it was intimidating. It seemed to hold a dark secret that hung over the trees like a mist. Her eyes wandered again, resting on the bank of the lake, its black waters undisturbed. James had assured her that there was indeed a giant squid in the lake, as well as mermaids. 'Speaking of James,' she thought as she looked over at her companion. He lay back on his seat, the chair balancing on the back legs with his head resting on his palms. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his face scrunching unconsciously. It was interesting to watch as this British boy that literally oozed with maturity just chill. She did not realize she was staring until he looked over at her and winked before sitting upright.

"Ready to do it," he asked with a strange glint in his eye that sent a strange wave of heat through her neck. It seemed like her lungs had decided it was time for a break and her heart had just had a gallon of coffee. She could feel the wave of heat expand in ripples as it made her hands shudder and, just like that, it was gone. "Are you ready to do the assignment," he asked again, his hand pointing to the pair of scissors by the enchanting bloom. The heat disappeared, replaced with a deep embarrassment. Of course he had meant the assignment! 'Damn it Kris, what were you thinking?' She cleared her throat and asked what to do, hoping beyond hope that her voice came off as casual. He merely smiled and indicated to take the scissors and to cut the three blooms, making sure that they were neither touching nor too far apart. Once that was done, she was to wave her wand and chant "_Elementios_" three times. Kristin went to work, glad for the change in pace as she immersed herself in the task of cutting off the blooms without allowing them to touch. Although it kept her hands busy, it did nothing to stop her thoughts. The familiar heat of Miami, all her friends at school and the coven, her parents, all those memories played in her mind as she cut the plant. But behind all this fond reminiscing, there was the face of a boy, a black-haired tall teen with a black bandanna. And that little pendant that glowed against the robes, its pulsing beat the same as its owner's heart. The blooms were cut and lay waiting for the chant. She picked up her wand and said the words feeling that luscious thrill of power rush through her, as the blooms became piles of glowing ash mixing together to form a white powder. Once her work was done, she turned and proudly showed her result to James. He smiled at her, quickly nodding that yes, she had done a good job, and it was perfect, beyond perfect, just right. Professor Sprout walked among the students giving praise and advice whenever needed. When she reached the two new Gryffindors, she was happy to see that they had finished the task and were storing their powder into the assigned pouch. They were intelligent indeed, and there was something special, familiar about the boy. Hermione beamed at her Professor and received the praise she always got. Her eyes studied the rest of the students as they worked furiously to cut their blooms. Then she noticed the newbies. They were talking amongst themselves in soft voices, their filled pouches on their tables. A smile crept across her face. 'Well, it looks like I have competition,' she thought. She looked at the male teen. Nostalgia pulled on her, but she forced it aside as she analyzed this newcomer. Something about him had unnerved her. Was it the hair that rested lazily but perfectly on his shoulders? Was it the bandanna that seemed part of his body while at the same time seemed to hide something? Or maybe it was the way his eyes had an intensity she recognized, a courage and bravery that could stare down Death himself. Whatever it was, she knew this boy, but had never met him, spoken to him, but never seen him. She was determined to find out what it was that made her ill at ease. At that moment Sprout called for all students to wrap up their assignments.

"For those who were able to produce the powder, congratulations, you have just made an all-purpose healing remedy," she said as she led the class out of the Greenhouse. "Okay, chaps, today's lesson is over. Being the first day and all, you have no homework. Off with you now," she said with a cheerful wave of her hand as the class cheered. It was break time, forty-five minutes before the next class starts. Harry looked over at the Quidditch field and was struck with an idea. Turning to Kristin, he asked if she would like to learn how to ride a broomstick.

"Me, learn how to ride a broomstick?" The image she conjured in her mind made her smile. Taking her smile as an acceptance, the boy led her to the stadium. Checking it out first, he was relieved to see that there was no one there. Then it hit him. In his excitement, he realized that he had forgotten his broom! Harry winked at his companion before snapping his fingers. Within seconds the Firebolt appeared at his side and he mounted it. Without warning, he grabbed her by the hand and willed the broom up. Kristin stifled a scream as she felt her feet leave the ground. Harry tightened his grip as he led her to one of the stadium seats. Once she was felt solidity under her feet, she swelled up to chew him out. Before she could say a word, he flew high into the air, his outline becoming a mere dot in the sky. While she searched for him, she did not notice a thick oak box appear at her side, nor did she see the group of teens clad in red and gold with broomsticks heading into the stadium with Ronald Weasley at the forefront.


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer**: If I owned it, I would make Harry make up his damn mind... Dream on ST, dream on.

**Chapter Five: Life's Lessons**

'Forty-five minutes is plenty of time to get in some practice for next week's game,' Ron thought as he and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team headed into the field. When he went to get the Quidditch chest, Filch had informed that someone had already checked it out. Furious, he convinced his team to accompany him in 'relinquishing' the chest for practice. They arrived like a storm, ready and willing to take the chest, but were floored when they noticed no one around. Ron was not fooled. He mounted his broom and flew into the air, his team close behind him.

Harry felt the wind singing in his ear as the heat of the sun enveloped him. Here, in this stadium, he was reminded of the peace he had once known. He looked down and muttered a little spell. The chest he had left with Kristin sprung open as the Quaffle and two Bludgers shot toward him. Harry caught the Quaffle and dived. For that split second, with the wind now roaring in his ears, Harry Potter was free.

Ron, having seen the Bludgers fly upwards, ordered his team to follow them. Before any of them moved, though, they could hear wind whistle as a dark blur shot downward. The blur cut through the team easily, the force of its dive pushing them aside. The blur stopped and the Gryffindors could make out the emblem of their house on the black robe. It was the new student riding the much-coveted Firebolt. In his hands was the Quaffle. He looked up at them for a moment before flying at the goalposts.

Kristin watched in awe as the group in red and gold came into view. 'They must be the Quidditch team I had been hearing about,' she thought as she studied their features with her special eyesight. She did not know any of them, but that was to be expected. After all, she was the new girl. Then, when the chest next to her had opened she squeaked, something she had not done in a long time. A big round thing with craters everywhere flew up into the sky, followed closely by two balls that seemed made of petrified wood. She felt the thrill of a spectator as the riders beneath her entered some kind of formation and flew after the balls. 'This is going to be fun,' she thought as James appeared beneath the group, beckoning to them with the cratered ball.

Now angrier than ever, the Captain flew after the Quaffle at suicidal speed, determined to show the newbie who was boss. The team eagerly entered formation. The Beaters took up their duties by swatting the Bludgers straight at the new guy. The Keeper went and floated in front of the goal, his large body effectively guarding the middle hoop. Harry just smiled as Ron and the Chasers tried again and again to remove him from his broom. Bludgers flew harmlessly past him as he swerved from left to right. Once he reached the center of the stadium, he threw the Quaffle high into the air. The Gryffindors flew toward the ascending ball as Harry calmly pushed the broom until it was pointing straight up. The Firebolt shot like a bullet as Harry hung from his arms near the base. When the time came, he climbed the broom until he stood on the tip. Taking a deep breath, he leapt into the air and flipped until he was upside down. The Quaffle appeared right where his foot was and he kicked with all his strength. There was the sound of air compressing violently as the ball became a blur speeding toward the goals. The Keeper never knew what hit him as the blur slammed into his chest and knocked him through the hoop. The team looked with surprise and renewed anger as they rushed toward the offensive rider. Back and forth Harry pushed the team, all the while raking in the points, his eyes always on Ron, willing him to step down, trying with all his strength to humble him. Once he counted twenty perfect goals, he decided to end the lesson. Throughout most of the game, the Snitch had been flying around the stand where Kristin was sitting, although she seemed entranced with the bustle of bodies and brooms around him. Slamming the Quaffle into the ground, he flew straight to the stand. Ron growled savagely as he and the enraged team followed their hateful adversary. With a wink to his audience and a scoop of his hand, the tiny golden ball was in his hands. Locating Ron, he leapt from his broom and landed on the Captain's. With his knees bent he stared at his best friend.

At this close distance Ron could see every feature of the boy. His rage at the humiliation he and his team were suffering under this newbie made his hands shake as he gripped tightly the handle of his Cleansweep Eleven. His crystalline blue eyes were boring holes into his own and he defiantly stared back. But he couldn't shake that there was something about this guy that he recognized. His anger flared again when the newbie revealed the Snitch in his hand, its wings beating slowly.

"Game over," Ron heard him say before jumping back on his own broom. At that moment the voice of the Headmistress resounded through the air.

**_"Break has ended. All students report to your next class immediately."_** The Gryffindor Quidditch team fell to the ground, their bodies seething with rage as they nursed their wounded egos. As for Harry, he flew up to where Kristin sat cheering and whistling loudly. He floated in front of her and bowed, getting more laughter from her. Once all the balls were back in the chest, he sent it down to the field and held his hand out to her. She hesitated for a moment before gingerly stepping out. He had her sit with her legs on the side in front of him as they descended. In this position Kristin found her head against his chest, her ears listening to the steady _thump_ of his heartbeat. Those same ripples of heat she had felt in Herbology returned with more force than before. All to soon they were back on the ground. Kristin's mind raged. 'Damn it, you idiot! Why are you letting him get to you like this? You're tougher than this! Just breathe deeply a few times, stand up straight-_he felt really warm_- no, don't think about that! _Kinda smells like Old Spice… _' She hopped off the broom and faced away from him, begging the heat to go away. When it finally did, she turned and asked him what his next class was. She was faintly disappointed to learn that he had Defense Against the Dark Arts while she had History of Magic. The two walked in silence until they reached a fork in the hall. Kristin checked her map and made a right. James waved goodbye as he went left. She waved back, fighting against the urge to call him back, stay with me, don't go yet, but she walked on to her class. Entering her class, she felt a deep swell of loneliness run through her. Sticking her chin high into the air, she went to the back of the room, feeling the stares of the other students follow her until she finally sat. Once they had assessed she wasn't about to grow horns and lunge at them, they returned to their conversations. Kristin simply watched the door as she waited for the teacher to come in.

"Good morning class," she heard a monotone voice speak to her right. She looked and almost jumped out of her skin. The ghostly outline of a man floated in front of the backboard, a transparent book in his hand. None of the other students reacted to him, simply offered the required greeting and settling down. The ghost introduced himself as Professor Binns and opened his book to begin his lesson. From the moment she heard his voice begin to read from the book, Kristin could feel her eyelids suddenly weighted down, but she was not sleepy. It was more like a trance, a drowsy, mumbling hypnosis that made her want to put her head down. She struggled valiantly to listen and take notes, but it was no use, his voice refused any kind of activity on her part. After an hour passed, she could feel the thin thread of her sanity become strained to the point of rupture. She had to get out, had to get out! Finally, she raised her hand and spoke up.

"Um, Professor Binns," she asked, amazed how lively her voice sounded. The ghost halted like one of those antique cars where the engine still ran even after the key had been removed. His face moved and met with her.

"Yes, Ms. Mayo?"

"Can I use the restroom," she asked, painfully aware that the class was once again looking at her. When the ghost waved his hand in compliance, she gathered her essentials and left the room, leaving the paper and pen behind. Once she was out of the room she felt life return to her (no pun intended of course) as she skipped down the hall to the common room. Imagine her shock when she found that the Fat Lady was nowhere to be found. She reminded herself that paintings could move, so she decided to walk around a little more and try back later. Walking onto the field facing the forest, she found herself entranced by the mist that seemed to permanently flow between the trees. It warned her, commanded her to stay away on pain of death. This would not do, of course. Above all things, she hated being told what to do. So, in an act of open defiance, she walked into the Forbidden Forest. All around her the darkness and mist clung to her skin as branches slapped against her face. As she was walking she was aware of eyes studying her. She was beginning to regret coming in here. She was just turning to walk back when she realized she could no longer see where she had come in! Her regret turned to panic as she walked frantically through the trees, searching for the way out. All the trees looked the same, and the mystical fog seemed darker as it hid her shadow within its folds. A scream of fear caught in her throat as she realized that she could be stuck here for a long time. 'God, I swear I'll never skip again, just let me out of this forest,' she prayed as she past a tree for the eighth time. Almost immediately, there was a rustle of leaves to her left. Kristin froze, willing with all her soul that whatever had stumbled upon her would just turn around and leave. The rustle grew louder; the figure was heading toward her. Whipping out her wand to defend herself, she pointed it at the approaching menace. The trees parted and a tall hairy figure appeared in front of her. He was gigantic in both stature and berth. The giant wore a haggard fur skin coat with black boots. And the hair! It was wild, growing in every direction, even worse than Hermione's! 'What a disaster,' she thought as she lowered her wand slowly. 'Anyone with that kind of hair isn't about to hurt me.' What came next stunned her.

"WHAT THE RUDDY HELL ARE YA DOIN' HERE," the voice said, its volume causing the trees to shiver. Kristin did not answer, her spirit rebelling at the reproachful tone. "There's a reason why this fores' is FORBIDDEN, you know! Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" Black beady eyes looked down at her. There was anger in them, but she could also see a gentleness coming from him. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't grinded her bones to make his bread or anything. Deciding that bombarding this monster of a man was probably not the best thing to, Kristin chose another tactic. Running at him, she wrapped her arms around the bear and faked hysterical crying. 'Thank God for Drama Class,' she thought as she executed a perfectly timed gasp and shudder.

"I was so scared! I just wanted to see if I could spot a unicorn, but then I couldn't find the way back, it was all the same, just walking in circles, so afraid," she ranted on and on, melting Hagrid's heart. He had been taking his regular stroll through the Forest, greeting all his friends, but he never expected to meet up with a roaming student. It was the first day of classes! But the fear he had seen in her eyes, despite the award-winning performance she was giving, had shot to his soul. He patted her back and told her to follow him. She sniveled softly and walked next to him. They reached the path and the two exited the maze of trees.

Kristin inhaled the clean air deeply. She flashed the giant a huge smile. "Thanks a lot," she said. "I thought I would never get out! Anyway, I have to get going. See you around!" Before the man could say anything, she ran off. Kristin was grateful for his help, but was not too keen on letting the man know she had been skipping class. She ran until she found herself at the edge of the lake, its black waters cresting soundlessly over the bank. Here she sat, letting her lungs relax after the long run and the scare before then. The sun had reached the halfway point in its journey. White clouds provided dark patches of shade as they rolled on their way. The scenery was relaxing, and she found herself daydreaming of many things, of everything and nothing, of life and love, the anarchy that is the human spirit, and the simplicity of its will. Just the odd little things one ponders on a day like this. Her lids were heavy suddenly, and she dreamed no more.

Harry walked into his class, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, at the same time Kristin entered her own. Similarly, he was the last student to come in. The entire class became dead silent as one, almost as if they had been trained to do so. Not surprised at all to see Hermione among the tables, Harry was slightly surprised to that Ron had ADA as well. His two best friends sat on opposite ends of the room, Ron with his little clique of Gryffindor Quidditch players by the entrance, all of whom were boring lasers into his vital organs, and Hermione with her roommates near the corner, many their eyes studying him with mild interest before returning to the teacher. As for Lupin, he simply nodded at the teen to take a seat. Harry found an empty one in the center, right next to Seamus. The boy nodded a greeting. Lupin cleared his throat to draw the attention of the class.

"Well, I believe that by now you all know what Mr. Harrison looks like, so if you don't mind, we can begin with today's lesson," the man said in his plain voice, just the slightest hint of sarcasm beneath the monotone words. "Now, can anyone tell me the name of a Dark beast that has the face and front legs of a lion, the back portion that of a goat, and a tail made up of seven snakes?" Hermione's hand flew into the air two seconds after snakes. The rest of the class blanched visibly at the end of the question. Didn't this guy know that they had better things to do than study Dark beasts? I mean, come on, you're only young once, why waste it studying? Lupin looked around the room, ignoring Hermione's hand. He had heard from the other Professors of her intelligence, so he decided to try someone else. His eyes fell on James. The teen was balancing his chair on its hind legs, eyes meeting his intensely, the blue orbs shimmering with unnatural light. 'Might as well try him,' he thought as he pointed to the new student. The whole class turned their attention to whom the man was pointing and Hermione's hand faltered. For a moment James did not answer, but seconds later his voice rang through the silence.

"The chimera, a beast known to frequent the forests of Greece. Mythology says the great hero Bellophoron rode the fabled winged horse Pegasus and slew one of these dangerous creatures," he said, his eyes still locked with his Professor's. He had noticed that Lupin's irises were larger than that of a normal person and that his nostrils flared occasionally. His robes were tattered, but it did not seem like travel had anything to do it. The robes were torn, clumsily sewed back frequently. 'Hmm, that proves it,' Harry thought as the rest of the class gawked at him.

"Excellent, Mr. Harrison. Ten points. Moving along, due to this being an advanced class, I think it's safe to bring in a particularly dangerous beast into the class. Be warned, for no matter what you see, this beast is very capable of killing you." Without another word, Lupin revealed a large cage draped over with a thick black oilcloth. Harry, as well as many who remembered second year smiled, their suspicions rejected and confirmed as the removal of the cloth revealed what could only be described as three large teddy bears. Many of the girls squealed with delight while the boys struggled not to laugh. It was Lockhart all over again! The bears sat on the table with their heads down. Lavender ran her fingers across the cage. The ears perked up at the sound and their heads rose as one. Their eyes were glassy and their snouts had a shiny wetness around them. Harry smirked as the girl reached into the cage to pet them. Just as her hand crossed through the bars, the bears stood up and threw themselves against the cage. Their mouths revealed serrated teeth and out of the paws shot long claws that were curved inwardly. The shocked teen screamed and ran back to her seat. Two of the transformed bears snarled and shook the bars of the cage, bent on escaping. The other still sat, undisturbed. A white stripe ran down the center of its fur, stopping between the glassy eyes. Lupin continued to smile. "Class, I want you to pair into three groups and subdue these Senbearas. Hurry up now, before they start tearing each other apart. Oh, and watch out for the one with the stripe, she's very fast and wickedly clever." The students hurriedly split into two groups. Ron and the team made up one group; Hermione led another group of mostly girls, while Harry just sat in his chair twirling his wand. The Professor undid the latches on the bottom and lifted the cage. Two of the Senbearas leapt forward at Ron and Hermione's groups. Ron snapped his fingers and three wands shot spells at the airborne bear. The beast fell back, landing somewhere behind the statue of a famous warlock. The other Senbeara headed over to the girls. Many of them screamed, the shock of something so cute being so vicious rendered them useless to anything else. Hermione was unfazed. Working quickly, she froze the bear in midair with Levitation, paralyzed it, and left it to hang out of the window from a rope she had conjured out of thin air. Lupin was impressed, but that was just the beginning. The class looked over at their Professor, all smiles and dimples. Hermione was the first to notice.

"Where's the one with the stripe," she asked out loud. Sure enough, the spot where the third Senbeara had been sitting was now vacant. The students looked around the room. One of the Quidditch players went to check up on the other bear, but it was nowhere to be found. That left the bear hanging out the window, but lo and behold, that bear was gone as well. Three Senbearas unaccounted for. Harry looked out of the corner of his eye and caught a fleeting image of brown behind Hermione's group. He whistled to them. When the frantic class turned to him, he pointed nonchalantly. Bang, zoom, splat, one Senbeara subdued and in the cage. The striped one was still MIA as another bear appeared on the roof over Ron's head. It dropped and proceeded to scratch the living hell out of the team captain. Its snarls were drowned out by the cries of anger and pain as he ordered his teammates to do something.

"Get it off, get it off, you stupid gits," Ron screamed as he danced around in circles. The team seemed unwilling to shoot any spell for fear of hitting their captain. Hermione was laughing too hard to do anything, and Lupin simply sat in his chair reading the Daily Prophet. Letting the bear get in a few good scratches, Harry aimed and knocked it against a wall. The players took that opportunity to bombard it with Stupefication spells and shove it next to its unconscious brother. Ron held his head tenderly, biting his lip with the effort it took not to cry. Hermione still chuckled, the image replaying in her mind. Neither noticed as the striped Senbeara ran on the floor and leaped into the air, its fangs drawn as it flew across the room toward James. Only when it roared did they turn and look. James did not move an inch, merely twirled his wand as the bear came closer and closer. Suddenly, the cage rose into the air. It sped behind the Senbeara and clamped down just as one of the claws was about to slice into his face. The bear slammed into the bars, struggling in vain to reach James' cheek. As for the teen, he balanced the cage on top of his wand for a moment before setting it back on Lupin's desk. The professor clapped his hands softly.

"Well done class, well done. This ends today's lesson. Homework: I want you to write a five hundred-word essay on Senbearas, to be handed to me Thursday. As for Mr. Weasley, come up so that I may heal you. The rest of you, class is dismissed," he said with a faint smile. The class over, the Gryffindors talked excitedly amongst themselves, revealing where they had been when a Senbeara had been subdued and how they had helped. Some looked over at James, who had begun twirling his wand again. The class filed out. "Mr. Harrison, a word," Lupin asked as the teen rose to walk out. Once everyone was gone, he said, "I noticed that although you had summoned the cage to trap the striped Senbeara, you never once uttered the incantation nor did you stop twirling your wand. Care to explain?"

"Now, professor, what you say is impossible. Everyone knows that in order to cast a spell you must say the incantation and use a wand. You must not have been looking at me. What about you? How is it that a Lycan was able to become a teacher here at Hogwarts?" Harry smiled at the shocked look on the professor's face. "Relax, Professor Lupin, I won't tell a soul if you don't." Letting those words hang in the air, the teen walked out of the class. A smile graced his face as he headed to his last class of the day: Double Potions with, you guessed it, the Slytherins. As he made his way to the familiar dungeon, he looked out the window. The sun was long past its midpoint, coming closer and closer to its collision with the horizon. The glassy surface of the lake reflected the star beautifully; giving whomever looked a false sense of security, for though the light valiantly fought, it could not pierce the murky blackness of the bottom. What caught his eye, above all, was the figure of a girl lying on the edge of the lake sleeping. He squinted as hard as he could and could just make out red highlights. A chuckle escaped his lips as he beheld Kristin snoozing on the grass. 'First day and already she's skipping.' He continued his walk, finally reaching the door to the dungeon. The same pungent smell he remembered from long ago assailed his senses. He looked over to the corner closest to the entrance. There was the same table he, Ron, and Hermione had sat for two years, laughing and enjoying all the happiness of eternal friendship. Now it was barren, dust collected on the chairs, proof of their use, or lack thereof. As for Professor Severus Snape, he stood behind his desk, his black cloak wrapped tightly around his body as he waited for his class to assemble at their desks. This time Harry had been the first to enter, earning him a calculating look from Snape. Behind him the door opened followed by the drone of Gryffindors and Slytherins as they piled into the dungeons. Seeing as he was already known by just about everyone, Harry didn't even warrant a sideways glance. Hermione entered first, followed quickly by Ron and his posse. As expected they sat on opposite ends of the room. Harry let out a sigh of exasperation. 'Are things between them really that bad? This will not do. I have to find a way to bring them back to normal. I think it's time for a bold move.' With this thought in mind, Harry went over and sat in the same chair from his past. This valiant act of stupidity immediately caught the attention of the two estranged friends. Both did not seem happy with seeing the new student sitting in **THE** seat. 'How dare he,' both thought simultaneously.

"**GET OUT OF THAT CHAIR RIGHT NOW**," both screamed in one voice as they stood up. Their faces had matching red colors on the cheeks and wands were in their hands.

"Both of you sit down right now," Snape barked in a venomous tone. The two looked at each other, their eyes meeting for a split second as the idea of both jumping up and saying the same thing processed in their minds before sitting back in their seats. 'Well, it's a start,' Harry thought as a few of the Slytherins sniggered at the display of sappy loyalty. Draco Malfoy sneered at the two. It never ceased to amaze him how pathetic they were without Potter to complete them. Oh, he relished the look on that Mudblood's face whenever that loser was mentioned. As for the Red Weasel, nothing could ever erase the look on _his_ face when Draco cracked on him on how that fool had been the only reason he had had friends to begin with. Oh, yes, good memories, almost as good as witnessing the house burning that night. Never had fire looked so pleasurable, so invigorating. It sent shivers underneath his skin whenever he thought of that special night. So what if he lost the duel? What mattered was that he was dead, and it was all thanks to him. At least this is what he wanted to think. But beneath all that hostility he felt toward them, his heart beat painfully for them. His conscience thrashed against his ribcage, demanding why he had caused these two so much pain. It was the tiniest of beeps in an orchestral symphony blasting Bach Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, but it was there nonetheless. Chalk it up to having a girlfriend. Relationships have that ludicrous effect of making one softer, more intoned to the feeling of others. Bah.

"Now, it seems Harrison has chosen to start his first Potions class with a scandal. It seems that kind of trait is common at that table. I'm sure you all remember who used to sit there," Snape asked as his eyes roamed around the room gauging all the reactions of the students. "Yes, the late and great Harry Potter once sat in that very chair. Let us see if you can surpass his brewing abilities? Then again, that may be too much to ask from the new student." Many of the Gryffindors hissed at the comment made so flippantly about Harry Potter. "The Headmistress seems to think that this year is ready to try the more complex brews of my craft," Snape continued, the sneer never leaving his face. "Therefore, against my better judgment, I have decided to teach you how to brew the Polyjuice Potion. Now, can anyone _other_ than _Ms._ Granger tell me what this potion does? Hmm?" The aforementioned girl stopped her hand in mid-flight and sent it crashing into her lap. Memories of second year played in her mind. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, when _was_ the last time she had been there? It seemed so long ago, a lifetime, an eternity past. 'Back when we were friends,' she thought suddenly, her eyes drawn to the other side of the room, to her old friend, who seemed to be wrapped thinking at the moment, a rare moment. Afterward she looked back to their old table. There sat the new student, his wand on the table, the oaken tip glowing dimly. He was looking right _at_ her, those strange blue eyes pulsing soothingly. They were full of interest, understanding, and… concern? The sound of Snape's voice snapped her attention back to the front of the class. "Go ahead, Mr. Weasley, dazzle us with your knowledge." _Ron_ was going to answer the question?

"It's a potion that allows you to become someone else," the boy said tentatively, his face focused intently on the board behind the Potions teacher before moving to look at the girl to his right. Harry smiled as he realized that Ron still remembered, no matter what had happened between them, that he and Hermione had once been best friends. A moment passed as they held each other's gaze before returning their attention to the professor. As for Snape, he was at a loss for words. Finally, he muttered a two-point award to the Gryffindor and gave the assignment. They were to begin stewing the lacewings and chop up the fluxweed. It was quiet, just like Snape liked it. He savored these moments when the Gryffindors were reminded of their late celebrity. He had always hated that boy, always so smug and stuck-up, cocky, confident, arrogant, self-centered, bigheaded, attention-seeking bastard! Damn that James and his genes. He would never forgive them for what they did, never. Speaking of James, the Professor looked over at the cause of the scandal earlier. Although he had spoken harshly, he could not help but wonder why the boy picked that one seat out of all seats available in the entire class. Sure, he was the cause of the air of quiet mourning that dominated the more lion-oriented students of the class, but Snape got the feeling that he had done it on purpose. Even the name was suspicious: James Harrison. His hate for that particular name led to his final judgment of this new student as negative. Just to seal the deal, he walked up to that table, feeling the eyes of all the other students follow his movements. The teen did not even look up; his eyes were focused on the cauldron as he stirred the contents methodically. Snape's laser-sharp vision scanned the table for any kind of imperfection and was disappointed to find nothing. Since work was good, he decided to take a stab at character.

"So Harrison, it has been called to my attention that when you took your O.W.L exams, you scored Outstanding across the board." Many of the students gasped at this announcement while others scoffed, adding this new information into their list of the new guy's hateful qualities. "Any person with such intelligence and cunning would probably have a lot to boast about, don't you agree," the Professor continued, a sneer creeping into his face. 'Come on,' he thought. 'Show me that ego of yours so that I can shoot it down.' Sweet is the pleasure of an ego ruthlessly destroyed. The boy did not react, simply continued to stir the liquid. Snape stood there, feeling a strange heat collect on the back of his neck and flaming his cheeks. He remembered this feeling. It was embarrassment, something he had not felt since he had left Hogwarts many years ago. He was getting the brush off from a student! A student named James! Damn him! "I do not tolerate this kind of insolence in my classroom, Mr. Harrison. If you continue to ignore my questions I will put you in detention. Answer me: Do you feel your achievements make you better than the rest of the riffraff you no doubt associate with?" His voice had reached that familiar high pitch that signaled the peak of his anger. It was downhill from here on out. Harry looked up at those eyes, the ones that he had hated when he had been younger, and was filled with a wave of pity. This poor guy was so deprived of attention that he would berate his students to get it.

"No professor, I do not see myself as better than anyone else. I am my own person; I do not consider myself as part of a whole. Why should I compete with other people when I gain absolutely nothing from it? It is pointless, for just as they are unworthy of knowing me, so too am I unworthy of knowing them," he said, watching the reaction of the Potions master of the school. Snape simply stared at the teen, letting the meaning of the words sink in. With a huff he turned around and went to the front of class. Once he reached his desk he turned and demanded the class to finish stewing quickly, it was almost time for class to end. Many of the Gryffindors cheered beneath their breaths. As for Hermione, she was looking over at James, her mind repeating all the words he had said. One by one, all the data she had gathered from the entire day came together. James Harrison is a tall teen of roughly seventeen with shoulder-length hair and icy-blue eyes. A Gryffindor with two features that are not his House robes: a black bandana over his forehead with the school emblem stitched into it and a heart-shaped pendant on a silver chain that seemed enchanted to change different colors, he looked both at home and foreign in this rank dungeon. His intelligence appeared vast, shown in his O.W.L. scores and usage of magic against the Devil's Snare and the Senbeara as well as in his response to Snape's question. Also, he appeared to be a former Hogwarts student. Not to mention the nagging feeling of familiarity that she got whenever she looked at him. Upon reviewing this information, she realized she knew nothing about this person. She remembered Ginny's comment on his appearance and she had to admit he was _kind_ of cute, in a tall, dark sort of way. 'And familiar, let's not forget familiar,' her mind told her for the thousandth time. She had to find out who this guy is before that voice drove her mad. Shaking her head in an effort to stop the voice, the girl left the class for lunch.

Harry watched Hermione walk past him quickly, her head down on the ground as if inspecting it for cracks. Before that, she had been staring at him from her seat, inconspicuously of course. No doubt she was trying to figure out where she knew him. Out of any of the Hogwarts residents, students or otherwise, Harry knew that she would most likely be the first to figure out who he really was. It wasn't like he was trying to hide who he was, not at all. It's just that all his old enemies were offspring of Death Eaters; so them knowing he was still alive was probably not the best course of action at the moment. Except for Malfoy. Harry had plans for that hellspawn. Speaking of which, Harry flicked his wrist just as the aforementioned teen reached the door. The thick slab of wood slammed inches from the boy's face. A small squeak of surprise escaped his lips before he righted himself. He looked behind him for the culprit, his cold angry eyes scanning each face before stopping on James. The teens locked eyes; two suspicious and full of anger while the other two cool and collected. James smiled slightly as some lingering Gryffindors snickered. Draco snorted loudly before leaving the dungeon. Crabbe and Goyle followed close behind him casting their own glares behind them.

Lunchtime in the Great Hall. The ceiling was enchanted to show a blue sky with billowy white clouds. The large room hummed with the chatter of old friends sharing new gossips, flares of old grudges, and the exchange of new half-truths. Every once in a while the overzealous laugh of a girl would rise desperately above the din before once again being consumed by the arduous beast that reigned over the tables. As Harry walked through the double doors, he noticed immediately that Kristin was not there. 'Is she still by the lake,' he wondered, his feet taking him to the placid circle of black glass. Sure enough, there lay the sleeping American on the bank of the lake. Many beasts had begun to gather around her, sniffing her with hungry eyes. Noting his presence, they turned and snarled at him. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the lake. The majority of the beasts got the message and returned to the lake. However, some of the tough guys held their ground, defiantly snarling at him. This time Harry pointed at a large Red Cap by the girl's left shoulder. Without warning the Red Cap rose high into the air and dived headfirst into the middle of the lake, causing a splash. The last of the resistance hurriedly went home, their tails between their legs, both literally and metaphorically. That done he went over and sat next to the young girl with his knees up facing the lake. She lay on her back; her hips were curved ever so slightly to the left with one hand draped over her abs while the other pawed the grass next to her. A few lone strands of hair rested on her face. Against the dark green grass and with the flow of the lake just licking her sneakers, she looked like a modern maiden under an enchanted sleep. 'A regular Sleeping Beauty, aren't you,' Harry thought fondly as he brought his hands back for balance as he leaned backwards and mused over the pictures in the clouds. Hours went by as lunch finished and the students went to their respective hangouts for the remainder of the day. The sun set, its crimson beams waving farewell to the day before going to continue its eternal journey around the world. Finally, as the stars came out of the darkness of the night, the girl next to him stirred.

Kristin stretched her muscles as the hand of sleep finally released her. She had slept well, dreaming of flying, floating, happy trails and the beach. Slowly she opened her eyes, allowing them to focus. The first thing she saw was the figure of a boy next to him, shoulder-length hair swaying in the light breeze. Smiling lazily, she brought her hands behind her head.

"Hey you, what are you doing here," she asked.

"Well, well, I was just wondering when you would be waking up."

What do you mean? How long was I asleep," she asked as she sat up and looked around. The night breeze pressed its velvet touch against her cheek.

"You have been sleeping since History of Magic, which means you missed Charms and lunch," he added as he felt his stomach grumble softly.

"What? That means I've been asleep all day! Oh man, I'm going to get detention for sure now," she said frantically, ignoring the rumbling in her gut. As a result, it growled louder, determined on being heard. "You know… I'm kind of hungry."

"No problem, if we hurry we can be back in time for dinner," he said as he stood up and offered his hand to her. She took and stood up, their faces close, too close. Without a word, the two ran to the Grand Hall. Delicious aromas wafted from the cracks in the double doors causing the companions to salivate at the mouth. Entering through the doors, the eager you students took the seats closest and food immediately appeared in front of them. Kristin abandoned all inhibition at the door as she reached out with her hand and consumed an entire drumstick in one bite, spitting out the bone onto her plate. Quickly reaching for a mug, she downed the juice in one gulp and resumed her eating. Six plates later, she let out a sigh of contentment. 'Damn, the food here fucking rocks,' she thought happily, letting the feel of a full stomach expand her list of appropriate adjectives. She looked over at James, who was on his third plate, his fork and knife slicing and stabbing slowly and methodically. Each portion entered his mouth noiselessly, his powerful jaws crushing it thoroughly before swallowing. It was rhythmic the way he ate, as if he had all the time in the world. Once the plate was empty, he brought out his wand and tapped the plate twice, signaling he was done. Wiping his lips with a silk napkin, he turned to her and smiled stupidly.

"Now I feel _so_ much better," he said softly, as if speaking out loud made the feeling diminish. Standing up, he said, "We better go and get any homework Flitwick might have passed out. When we get there, let me do the talking. If we're lucky, I might be able to talk him out of giving you detention. Come on."

The two left the Great Hall. The hallways were littered with many small groups of students talking amongst themselves. As the pair appeared in the corridor they grew silent, eyes locking on the two. Soft murmuring and whispers drifted from between the closely huddled heads, faces popping out of the group to look at them from time to time. Kristin fought the urge to go Postal on these damn Europeans that think they know everything, judging her as if they were the Fates themselves. Harry on the other hand just shook his head at the irony of the situation. These critics did not know who he was, yet they were whispering gossip about him just like in his second year when they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. 'Rumors never die, they just change face,' he thought. Almost an eternity of whispering later, they reached the door to Flitwick's classroom. Taking a deep breath, Harry opened the door and stepped into the room. Not knowing what to expect, the boy held in his breath, but it blew through his lips when he found there was no one to be seen. Floored for a second, the teen quickly remembered that the Charms professor required a large amount of books beneath him just to be seen by the class.

"Professor Flitwick, are you here," James called out as Kristin looked around the room. On every wall there was a multitude of vibrant talismans. There were pendants, slips of paper with strange writing, bracelets, beads, anything magical accessory the American had ever imagined was plastered on the stonewalls. Behind the oak table of the professor were some statues of unknown men, each one bearing different facial appearances. There was an aura of divine authority that was apparent on the smooth marble of their outstretched hands. Beside these entrancing sights, she could not see anyone, making her wonder about the type of teacher this Flywick was. After all, she had already had a _ghost_ for a teacher! It would not be too far-fetched to think that this guy might be _different_ as well. She yelped softly when a voice spoke suddenly.

"Yes, yes, I'm here," the voice said, pitched higher than any voice Kristin had ever heard. The owner of the voice stepped out from behind the desk that had a good three inches of height over him. 'Dear God, he's a fucking gnome! One of those cheesy Christmas gnomes,' she thought as she suppressed a giggle. "I see that you have brought me Ms. Meyers, who deemed it unnecessary to attend her first Charms class," the professor continued, causing the giggle to die violently in the back of her throat.

"This is indeed Ms. Meyers Professor," waving his hand toward her, looking her in the eye. His thoughts were clear: _Do not say a word._ "I assure you that the reason she did not come to your class is valid and clearly excusable."

"Is that so," the squeaky voice inquired. "Well, Mr. Harrison, lets hear it then."

"Yes, professor Flitwick. Since Kristin is new to Hogwarts, indeed to this very country, she has been experiencing certain difficulties as to her adaptation to our climate. She comes from Florida, you see, a tropical peninsula with a temperature that rarely drops below sixty degrees Fahrenheit. If you think about it, she should be pitied in her present situation." Kristin marveled at the smooth speech that rolled off of James' tongue. It was going well, until he said the part about being pitied. 'Pitied? He did not just say "pitied" did he?' The infamous Meyers temper flared as the poor girl struggled gallantly to control it. During her struggle, James continued, "So you see, it wasn't just because she was lost in the labyrinthine halls of this Great School, but she was also lost in our climate. She should be acclimated by tomorrow, which means she will no longer miss your class. How about it professor, think you could go easy on her?" The gnome was silent for some time, evaluating the speech he had just heard.

"I must say, Mr. Harrison, your powers of persuasion are formidable. Very well, I shall take no disciplinary action this time, but I do need to know how much Ms. Meyers knows, so if she would step forward please," he said, producing a strange charm in his hand. Kristin nervously stepped forward; noticing in passing that the professor only reached her waist. Flitwick placed the charm in her hand and said, "Consider this your homework. I want you to execute a perfect Cheering Charm. Mr. Harrison, I trust you know how to do so?"

"Yes I do professor."

"Excellent, then you shall aid her. Now off with you, I have something important to look for at the moment." The two left the room, Kristin two steps behind James, her attention drawn to the charm and the predicament it presented. She did not even know what a Cheering Charm was! In her panic, she did not notice where they were going. It was only when she heard the voice of the Fat Lady asking for the password did she realize they were back in the Gryffindor common room. Most of the chairs were empty, save for a few first-years who huddled near the fire as if chilled by sudden breeze that accompanied the two when the painting swung opened. Their eyes, wide and fearful, locked with James', who nudged his head to the door. Immediately they stood and left, leaving the room empty. Plopping on one of the couches, he beckoned to Kristin with his index finger. Smiling at the suaveness he gave off so perfectly she obliged. Pulling up a seat, she sat facing him, the charm like an offering in her palm.

"Observe closely Kristin, or the results you get might be incredibly different. _Allegra_," James said as he tapped the charm against her forehead. For a moment she felt nothing. Then there was a strange wave of something weird flowing from the place where the charm had touched her forehead, spreading across her skin, rippling it softly. All her muscles were shutting down as her vision blurred for a second, focusing once again on the teen's face across from her. 'What is this,' she thought, her mind slowing as it filled with the same something as the rest of her body. It was a feeling of that much she was sure, but what? What was this strange exhilaration? What was this overwhelming need to smile? She looked at James, panic evident in her eyes as her spirit rebelled at the invading sensation.

"What… what did… you… do to me," she managed to say, her face squinting with the effort to keep the feeling from bursting through her lips. Her sides were starting to hurt from the exertion. She jumped slightly upon feeling the teen's hand on her aching cheek.

"Don't fight the magic, it'll only make things worse. What you are feeling is the effect of the Cheering Charm, a state of euphoric happiness. You are resisting it and that's why it hurts. Let it go, surrender to the magic, and you will feel much better. Come on, show me your smile," he said softly with his hand holding her chin up, flashing her a glimpse of his own pearly whites.

So that's what it was: happiness. It was a _euphoric_ happiness, even better! 'Not entirely sure what that means, but I'll try it,' she thought as she relaxed her mind, allowing the emotion to spread through her and filling her. Then slowly, gingerly, her lips parted, revealing a slightly dazed smile, along with a deep sigh as she surrendered to the magic. The smile grew as she admired the clever arrangement of lines and squares on the roof. It was strange how high she felt yet at the same time she could easily make out the bearded man in the portrait to the left fidget before disappearing from view. Her gaze fell on James and she sighed again, this time happily as the emotions rolled like waves across her skin. He was sitting in front of her, eyes locked on hers. 'He's so _cute_,' she thought absently as she leaned forward to study the bandana he always seemed to be wearing. She moved closer and closer, finally losing her balance and falling on top of him. Giggles dribbled down her chin as she inhaled the subtle cologne he was wearing. As for Harry, he found himself caught in an _extremely_ awkward position. Kristin's body was sprawled across him, her hands on his chest, the only thing besides clothes that prevented their chests from touching. Her legs were overlapping his, her left leg between his two legs. With her face tucked into his neck and each sigh and breath blowing hot air on the sensitive skin between his shoulder and cheek, Harry was feeling awkward indeed. A multitude of feelings and sensations were assaulting him all at once. There was embarrassment obviously from the leg that kept rubbing up against a certain region of his body, lightheadedness from said rubbing, fear of what might happen if he let this progress, relief that she did not really know who he was (not sure how that one fits in, but he felt it all the same), and happiness that he had performed the spell right. In conclusion, he was feeling pretty much at ease with the situation.

That is, until she started to tremble.

'No, I don't want to remember, not now, please not now,' Kristin thought desperately as the happiness she was feeling was fading as that hateful memory was resurfacing. 'Why now? That was seven years ago! Please, just let me have this moment,' she begged her subconscious but it was too late. She could clearly see the bathroom, smell the rancid aroma of urine and cheap soap as they singed her nose, hear the muffled grunts of Lori and the loud squeak of the stall door as it opened to reveal the travesty, the tragedy that made her see the vileness of the male animal. She could not trust them, not after what she saw, the betrayal she suffered. 'Why? How could you do that to her, after all the trust she placed in you? The love she showered you with! It wasn't enough was it? It wasn't enough!'

"It wasn't enough," she screamed, the words searing Harry's neck, and her palms became fists that she pounded against his chest with a tortured ferocity. He was baffled at her sudden change. He knew that the charm had worn off, but he never expected her to shift so quickly to anger. She continued to scream that strange cryptic sentence. _Who_ wasn't enough? He was about to gently lift her off him when he felt a strange wetness on his chin. Looking up as she continued to beat her fists against him, each blow softer than the one before, Harry could see the source of the water. It was her tears; she was crying. Changing his tactic instantly he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, squashing her fists between them. She struggled but he held her firmly, whispering in her ear.

"It's okay, Kristin, its all right, you're going to be alright, no more crying," his words continued, becoming a soft melodious murmur of consoling support that made her body relax again, reducing her to sobs as she clung to him, burying her face into his chest as she waited out the burst of unwanted emotion. She did not hear the Fat Lady ask the students at the painting for the password, but Harry did. Thinking fast, he summoned his Invisibility Cloak and covered she and himself with it. He chanted a little spell and when the portrait swung open, Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley beheld James stretched out on the sofa with his hands supporting his head, apparently napping. Neville steered his girlfriend to the fireplace but she resisted for a minute.

'He looks kind of familiar, not to mention cute,' she thought, mentally slapping herself at the latter thought. As for the former she contemplated it deeply as she and Neville sat by the dancing flames, her head resting on his shoulder.

Harry could see the two as they sat in front of the fire sharing a moment of intimacy. Kristin was still crying, though much more subdued than before. Absently he ran his hands over her back, still murmuring softly in her ear. The tears stopped with a heavy sigh that sent shivers through him. Some time later Neville and Ginny left, only to be replaced with the loud raucous Gryffindor Quidditch team herded by Captain Ronald Weasley. Each team member grew silent as they beheld the still napping James. Ron was the last to walk in. Piqued by the huddle his team had made in front of the couch he walked through and saw the cause of his team's humiliation sleeping leisurely. Various scenes of torture played in his mind as he observed this scene of apparent vulnerability. Placing his finger to his lips, he pointed his wand on the sleeping figure. Just as he was about to mutter an incantation, the wand flew out of his hand, landing in the fireplace. Screaming incoherently, he waved at his team to retrieve his wand before it burned to ashes. Once the rod was back in his hands, he looked over at the couch, only to find it empty.

"Damn it, you let him go you stupid idiots," he said loudly as he kicked them up the stairs to their dormitories. Once they were gone, Harry removed the cloak and gingerly sat up, cradling Kristin in his arms.

"Sorry about that," he said, "I had to make sure they didn't see us. Last thing we need is too much undue attention. Are you feeling okay?" Kristin smiled at the concern in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm all right, just needed to vent. Sorry about your shirt," she apologized, pointing at the large wet spot on his chest. James smiled and waved away the apology.

"Don't worry about it. Why don't you get some rest? A little sleep will do you good." Understanding the wisdom in his words, she was still reluctant to stand. She could not muster the strength to leave his arms. Finally, she took a deep breath and forced her body to leave the comfort of the teen's warm embrace. Feeling like her legs were made of jelly, she waved goodbye to him before disappearing up the stairs. Harry sat on the couch, contemplating all the events of the day. First was Herbology, with the Devil's Snare and the stares of all the students. Then the modest lesson of humility dealt to Ron on the Quidditch field, which proved ineffective to a fault. Afterwards was Dark Arts, with the Senbeara escapade and the realization that his professor was in reality a werewolf. Finally came Potions when he bravely sat in the sacred seat of Harry Potter and made his bickering friends realize that they do indeed have things in common. To end the day came the fairy tale moment of Kristin waking from her slumber and the Cheering Charm fiasco. 'Not a bad day,' he thought with a smirk as he headed up the stairs to the window. Without a moment's pause, Harry leapt out of the tower to do some training before going to bed. Landing elegantly on the grass, the teen removed his cloak and shirt as he headed to the Greenhouses. His destination came into view; swinging its branches threateningly at the intruder. Placing his discarded clothes on the ground, Harry proceeded to stretch out his muscles, feeling the wind pushing on his skin softly as it applied its own natural massage. After a few more moments of stretching, he launched himself at the Whomping Willow. The branches converged on the figure, bent on rendering him unconscious. Dodging the wooden swings deftly, Harry planted a punch right on the bark near the base of the tree, feeling his fist penetrate ever so slightly. Smirking, he decided that maybe this ancient tree wasn't what he had thought it would be. Suddenly, a branch came out of nowhere, striking him in the gut and lifting him slightly. Another branch slammed into his upper back, causing the teen to spin until he faced the stars. Just as Harry braced for impact, the same two branches that had connected wrapped themselves around his arms and legs. Fully incapacitated, the tree threw him into the air. Startled by the speed of such an old tree (Rowena had told him it had been planted more than fifty years ago), he twisted his body until he landed on his feet, legs bent at the knees with his right hand in the space between gripping the dirt. A broad grin ran across his face.

"Yeah, that's _much_ better," he said as he ran toward the tree. "Now let's try it again!" The sounds of wood contacting flesh and the happy grunts of a warrior during training filled the air. The crescent moon rose high into the air when Harry entered his dormitory, exhaustion teasing his leg muscles, whispering softly at them to collapse so that he could sleep wherever he may land. Upon reaching his bed, he fell into a deep sleep, ending the first day of class.


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer**: Oh Jo, how could you be so cruel... to think up something as wonderful as Harry and not give me credit for it! Just kidding

AN: Well, the time has come to thicken the plot a little... enjoy!

**Chapter Six: Fears and Boggarts under the Moon**

The next day was uneventful, as was the day after that, and the day after that… until a pattern of non-activity that lasted three weeks went by. Finally, on Saturday of Week Three, Kristin found herself in detention after a crew of snickering Slytherin prefects caught her 'harassing another student's well-being.' That was totally untrue! 'All I did was tell that stupid little shit that if he ever touched my ass again I'll jam his fingers so far down his throat he'll be shitting fingernails for weeks,' she thought resentfully as she sat under the stern eye of her Transfiguration teacher, a man by the name of Dorian Temple. A relatively new teacher who was employed after McGonagall became Headmistress, he has been said to be 'cool' in many ways. With tousled blond hair and bright blue eyes, he seemed the poster boy for all surfer dudes. He abhorred ties, preferring to wear short-sleeve shirts that he rarely buttoned up and slacks were usually the pants of choice. Being a kind of rebel, he often got glares from the other professors for his appearance and his chronic inability to administer homework. He enjoyed bonding with his students, especially the girls. It wasn't because he was a pedophile or anything; it was just that he thought them more mature and more capable of holding a good conversation than most guys. As a result of his ties to the female population, he proved to be an invaluable source of information by other teachers and male students as to the news and gossip that gripped the school from time to time. Being Head of Gryffindor House as well, it was his job to oversee Kristin's punishment: two hours of grading papers from of all of his classes. It wasn't so hard really, until she reached the sixth years and began reading their essays on how being able to Transfigure an inanimate object into a creature was an essential skill. Some were downright awful, just straight bullshit about how it can be used to entertain little kids or scare away robbers. Then there were those select few that really went into detail about how it could be applied to everyday use as well as in the employ of specific careers such as Aurors. After spending a good thirty minutes reading Hermione's essay, which was longer than any of the others she had ever read, she sighed and sat back, rubbing her eyes. There was no doubt Granger knew what she was talking about, but it wouldn't hurt to engage the reader a little instead of just spewing information and facts like an out-of-control water fountain. As she was reaching the two-hour mark, she came upon James' essay. 'Now that was an excellent essay,' she thought with a chuckle as she circled the large 'A' she had given him. It was funny, short, and to the point, just perfect. 'Just like him,' her id whispered in a sly voice. She was startled at the thought and pushed it aside with a wave of her hand, not wanting to confront the heat on her skin at the moment. That could wait until after detention. Rolling the teen's essay up carefully, she moved on to the next one, her mind drifting this time to her old life in Miami.

Harry walked down the hall to the library, searching for an old friend. Sure enough, there was Hermione sitting on one of the tables with a book in her hand. However, she wasn't alone. Sitting in the seat in front of her was a young teen that seemed to be her age with his hands on her hips. But what really caught his eyes were his robes. They were green! That boy was a Slytherin! He moved in closer as they talked, their murmurs becoming clearer, harsher, and angry. They were fighting.

"Oh Blaise, please stop this foolishness," she hissed, her voice carrying an obvious tone of irritation.

"It's not foolishness when my _girlfriend_ doesn't want to spend time with me anymore! I have to track you down just to be able to say hi to you and all you do is nod off my greeting as if I were some faceless fan or something," he said, his voice rising dangerously and Harry could clearly see his hands grip her hips tightly. Upon seeing her wince ever so slightly, Harry felt rage bubble inside him as this son of a snake exerted power on his best friend

"You know what Blaise," Hermione said after a moment's silence. "I don't think we're going to work out. I doubt that we ever had a chance together. What I'm trying to say is… I think we should separate." The Slytherin's face darkened several shades.

"You're dumping me? _You_ are dumping _me_? Why you pretentious mudblood bitch, you are nothing to me! Never was, never will be! I was hoping to use that big head of yours to pass my N.E.W.T exams, but I guess I won't need you anymore. So long bitch, it was fun while it lasted," he said as he turned and left her sitting there in shock. Harry could feel his hands shake as his eyes locked with hers. There was hurt in them, a stab that seemed to reach into her very heart. That clinched it; he had made his decision. Just as Blaise was at the door, he felt a sudden draft in his legs. Looking down, he was horrified to see his pants and knickers getting better acquainted with his shoes. He whipped around to find the culprit and saw only James with his arms crossed over his chest, a strange fire burning in his eyes. Behind him sat Hermione giggling into her hands. Blushing furiously, the boy lifted up his clothes and ran. Turning to face the girl the prankster bowed at her and she faked enthusiastic clapping, her hands producing no sound. He went to her and sat in the now vacant seat.

"Hope he wasn't giving you too much trouble," he said to her, his eyes willing her to look at him.

"Not at all, I would've done it myself but I was a little preoccupied on which curse would be best," she answered quickly, stealing occasional glances at him but mostly she fiddled with her book.

"You're Hermione Granger right? I remember you from the train ride. My name is James Harrison."

"Yes I know who you are," she said quickly, finally summoning the courage to look at him. 'It's not him, it can't be, forget about him,' she chanted as they held each other's gaze. Damn him and his oh-so-familiar smile.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out or something. It seems all my old friends from second year have changed into people I no longer recognize," he said to her, daring her to see the hidden meaning in his words. As for Hermione, she contemplated his request. She was perfectly content in staying in the library and reading, but something told her that she should not turn him down.

"Yeah, sure, we can hang out, where are we going," she asked as she stood up and put the book aside. James just smiled and shrugged his shoulders as he walked out into the hall. They walked aimlessly in silence, until she decided to break the silence. "So what's your story anyway," she asked with a glance at him.

"My story," he asked innocently as his mind quickly developed a convincing story to give.

"Yeah, I don't remember you from second year. Maybe if I learn some stuff about you, I might recall whether I knew you or not," she said, thinking 'Then I may finally find some peace from that accursed nagging voice.'

"Fair enough. Let's see… I was born in London sixteen years ago. Death Eaters killed my parents when I was just a baby. I was told that it was a rogue group but I think it might've been only one. Anyway, after that I went to live with some relatives. I guess you could say I had a rough childhood, but it wasn't that bad. They were the only family I had left, so I tolerated their little eccentricities. Anyway, I started going to Hogwarts five years ago, making it up to my second year. Then, during the summer afterwards, Death Eaters attacked my home. My aunt, uncle and cousin were killed and their bodies disposed of in the fire they set. I alone survived. After that I wandered, not really heading anywhere, just wanting to find the bastards who had done it. That was when I met this old man who helped me advance in my studies since I no longer had the heart to go back to Hogwarts. He trained me well and later introduced me to a group of wizards that taught me some more. Once the teaching was done they left, leaving me to live out my vendetta. Feeling lonely, I decided to come back here and here I am." Hermione had remained quiet, just letting him talk. She felt sympathy toward his situation, but she couldn't help but notice some parallels between his story and the life of Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you," she said, earning a smile from him, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. For a split second they looked almost emerald green but no, they were icy blue. 'Get a grip Hermione,' she scolded herself. Besides the absurd familiarity, she did not remember who this guy was. 'Never hurts to have friends though. Hope this one stays longer than… Ron.' Harry looked over at her, catching the sadness she was feeling before she cleverly disguised it with a smile.

"What's the matter? You seemed sad all of a sudden. Maybe I should find that Blaise guy and embarrass him some more," he said jokingly, keeping his face as concerned as possible. This time a giggle escaped her lips.

"It's nothing, just remembering an old friend, that's all."

"What was his name?"

"How do you know it's a guy?" His knowing smile gave her another blast of nostalgia. "You're right it is a guy, or was anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, its just he lost his manhood in my eyes when he tried to control something he had no business butting into," she said, her old resentment flaring as she remembered the argument in the Three Broomsticks. Even though many years had passed since that quarrel, the pain was still as fresh as ever. "I lost my best friend that day, the only one I had left."

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about Ronald Weasley by any chance would you," Harry asked tentatively, making sure to pick and choose each of his words carefully. Her eyes widened and she looked over at him, her face screaming for an explanation.

"How did you-"?

"I remember that you and Ronald were Harry Potter's best friends, the only ones who stood by him after that whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco. Then when he- passed on, I guess it just made sense that the two of you remained friends," he said, welcoming her to interject. He had to know what had happened.

"It does make sense, doesn't it," she answered mournfully. "When Harry was with us, it was the greatest time, smiles all around. Ron cherished his friendship with us, believing it to be the only good thing that had ever happened to him."

"And you? What did the friendship mean to you?"

"Oh, I loved spending time with those two! Ron was always so lively around Harry, and Harry… well," she said, slight warmth in her cheeks as she recalled her young friend. "Harry was one in a million. When he died, everything changed. He was our glue, you see, the one who kept us together. Without him, Ron started to change. I understand that he was hurting in his own way, but it seemed as if he had begun directing all his energy into being popular. To that effect, he started dating Parvati Patil, a roommate of mine. Once it became obvious they were a couple, I no longer heard from him. In class he sat away from me, preferring to be with his girlfriend and her circle of bimbos than to talk to me. I was forced to make new friends and strengthen the acquaintances I had just to be able to keep going. But it wasn't the same without Ron. I really miss him," she said, whispering the last sentence as she struggled to hold the tears in. 'Ron…'

'That asshole," Harry thought angrily. 'He abandoned her like a coward! Oh, yeah, he definitely needs a lesson.' Outwardly he said, "I don't think you should fault him too much. It's true that he did leave you alone at a time when you needed his support, but maybe he had a good reason for doing what he did."

"Like what," Hermione snapped, daring James to answer. He obliged.

"He was afraid, afraid of the memories that you represented. You say you knew that he was hurting. Perhaps it was the fact that the one good thing in his life had been taken away from him, leaving him in a pain he neither wanted nor deserved. But to see your face and remember all the happiness that had been stripped away from him, it might've been too much for him to handle. So he ran to the other side, seeking comfort in a multitude of faceless figures. I'm not defending his decision, not at all. He is a coward, but maybe he can be forgiven," he finished softly, letting his words process in his own mind. Yes, he can be forgiven, he would be. All that was required was time. As for Hermione, she was impressed and grateful for James' words. He was right of course; Ron was forgiven, could never be turned away. But first, before he was allowed back into the fold, he had to be taught a lesson.

"Thank you," she said, feeling the words deep within her heart. They walked on in silence, one glad to have regained an old friend, while the other was simply glad to have someone who understood.

September came and went, with October rapidly reaching its finale. A week before Halloween, Harry found himself in the last class of the day: Care of Magical Creatures. His professor surprisingly enough was none other than Rubeus Hagrid. The former gatekeeper of Hogwarts was in the process of teaching his students what was the best way to keep a giant scorpion under control. Many grunts and cries of pain resounded from the students as their beast's stinger numerously stunned them. The nerve-wracked half-giant was kept on his toes running from group to group with a healing powder. Harry just smiled sympathetically as he sat on top of his napping scorpion. Many of his classmates shot him dirty glances, but Harry had developed many friendships among them so he knew that only a few glares were deliberate. It hadn't always been that way. For the first couple of weeks many of the 'cool' students decided to break him into Hogwarts with a few pranks. A little vanishing step here, an exploding quill there, maybe a spiked drink or two. Really it was just harmless stuff. But try as they might, they found it nearly impossible to trick the new student. Any hexed quill given to him backfired, refusing to explode. The third step from the bottom was hopped deftly, and any spiked drink would be cleverly switched so that the prankster suffered from his own gag. Finally, the students gave up on trying to outsmart him and decided to befriend him. He proved to be a loyal friend who was always the first to jump into dangerous situations such as the large professor's assignment. Among the friends was Hermione who merely shook her head at the overconfident image the teen portrayed astride his beast. She did glare at Hagrid though, for giving her the only female scorpion.

"Easiest to handle my ass," she muttered bitterly as an attacking stinger once again tore her robe. Compared to the other scorpions the female seemed to be Satan himself in animal form. The hairy bastard in the trench coat gave her the thumb-ups sign as he hurried to Seamus who had somehow found a way to lodge the stinger of his scorpion in a most uncomfortable area: his rear end. Feeling yet another tear on her robes, Hermione paralyzed the hell beast with the strongest Stupefication spell she could muster. 'Oh yeah, she's not waking up for the rest of the week,' she thought with a smirk. Planting herself on top of the unconscious beast, she surveyed the rest of the group. On the far end Lavender and Parvati were trying to the calm their scorpion with backrubs and fair music. So far Lavender's arms were riddled with stings and Parvati's voice was growing hoarse. From Parvati she looked over to Dean Thomas who was trying with all his might to wrestle his scorpion to the ground. And then there was Ron. He stood slightly bent over, eyes locked with those of his scorpion. The two circled each other seven times before Ron flicked his wrist and shot a ray of red light at the beast. The scorpion collapsed to the ground and the Quidditch Captain cheered. As he was about to get close and kick it, the scorpion lashed out with its claw and sent the red-haired boy flying into a tree. Curses flowed from the boy like a waterfall as he dusted himself and attempted to recapture some shred of dignity. Thankfully for him Parvati rushed to his side and showered kisses across his face, instantly restoring the envy of the other boys. Harry watched the scene with distaste, wondering how Ron could look at himself in the mirror without screaming in fright at the jerk he's become. With a great sigh of relief from Hagrid class ended and the students filed back into the castle for lunch before the next class. Harry waved good-bye to his professor before walking briskly to the top of the North Tower where Kristin was taking Divination. He arrived just in time to catch her walking out the door wearing a face of great boredom and frustration. Upon noticing who was coming up the stairs her face produced a tired grin.

"How was class," he asked her by way of greeting.

"It sucked. Trelawney has no idea what she's doing! She keeps telling me to look for symbols in the tea leaves, but all I see are tea leaves! There are no symbols! I think the only time I enjoyed her class was on the first day when she declared that I was going to die in late May. I swear to God I almost cried from the laughter!" Harry chuckled at her frustrated ranting, allowing her to let loose and get it all out of the way. By the time they reached the base of the tower Kristin was worn out and ready to move on. The two were getting into a deep conversation on their next shared class, Transfiguration, when a platinum blonde-haired teen slithered in front of them followed by two dark blobs of lumbering muscle.

"Where do you two think you're going," Draco Malfoy asked with a sneer mirrored by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well Malfoy, I _was_ going to lunch but after seeing your pasty little face I don't think I want to eat anymore," Harry responded, looking coolly into the teen's eyes. This particular Slytherin had been the most annoying little fuck in the whole school when it pertained to pranks. Long after the other students had given up he jinxed James' book to snap shut suddenly or made sure that the teen walked into a door that led straight into an empty room and then locking him inside. He even went so far as to make an entire staircase appear where it wasn't, endangering the lives of other students just to make James fall. In the end James had taken an alternate route completely avoiding the enchanted area and Draco was given a week of detention. Being Snape's favorite student and a prefect, he ended up only serving two days. Of course he blamed Harrison for the punishment and has since then been devising even more twisted ways of torturing the new guy. As for the new girl, the mudblood Meyers, Draco had a much easier time with her. Twice he had managed to make her pen explode in her face and she always tripped on the vanishing step. Needless to say, Kristin and Draco were not friends. When she heard what her companion had said she chuckled.

"I see no reason for you to be laughing mudblood. It's not like he was talking about your family or anything," he snarled at her, catching the American off-guard. She wasn't about to let that slide.

"Listen bitch," she said angrily, "I'll laugh whenever I damn well please, be it at a comedian or at your dumb ass. You have no right to tell me what to do. Know your place when talking to me you fucking ass wipe." The boy took a step back before recovering himself.

"No, Yankee slut, it's _you_ who needs to learn her place. You don't belong here among true wizards. You belong on a street corner in a tight leather miniskirt," he said before turning to walk away, satisfied with his response. Kristin snarled and tried to jump him but was wrenched back by two powerful arms that enveloped themselves around her chest. She squirmed to get free as Draco walked to the end of the hall. As he rounded the corner, he turned to the two and said, "Halloween's coming up in a week. I hope you two enjoy yourselves." He was gone. The girl spit at the floor in disgust as James continued to hold her. Her anger ebbed away, replaced by the sharp realization of their position. A drowsy numbness began gathering at the area where the boy's arms made contact with her flesh. She looked up at him and caught him looking down at her, his eyes swimming with too many emotions to name. She found herself caught up in the rising and falling tide, feeling it beat against her mind with ruthless intensity. The pendant around his neck was glowing a light pink. It was warm against the side of her neck. She felt herself involuntarily fall backward until their bodies were devoid of space between them. A sigh was building in her throat when her mind suddenly registered what was occurring and she pulled away. A cold breeze assaulted her burning cheeks as she faced away from James. Her mind was in turmoil. 'What just happened,' she thought anxiously, the whole scene replayed in her mind. A hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts.

"Come on chic," James said lightly. "Let's go get some lunch." In silence the two entered the Great Hall. When lunch ended they walked to Temple's class without a word. Once seated, the professor began his lesson on Interspecies Transfiguring. As he droned on and on, James looked over at her and smiled. That smile broke the ice and he and Kristin began debating heatedly as to whether the goatee on Temple's face was real or not. By class's end they were joking and laughing like before. However, Harry could not forget Malfoy's last cryptic sentence. 'What has he got planned?'

Later, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest two figures in robes were whispering softly under the twilight stars.

"Do you have them," the one in green robes asked.

"Of course, they'll be here by the end of the week," the other answered.

"Excellent, make sure that they all make it into the castle. Hogwarts and all her students are going to have the scare of their lives!" A loud cackling filled the air.

Since the last day of October was a holiday, it was deemed by the Headmistress that there would be no classes for the whole day. Cheering rocked the walls of the school as the students decided to make the most out of the free day. Kristin and James were about to head to the Quidditch field for some practice when Professor Temple approached them.

"Headmistress McGonagall wants to speak to you James," he said and walking back without waiting for an answer. The teen looked over at Kristin and shrugged apologetically before following the retreating figure. They reached the familiar gargoyle and watched it become the spiraling staircase Harry remembered upon hearing the password: _Sunset Maple_. Temple nodded to the stairs before walking away. The teen went up and reached the door to the Headmistress' office. He stepped through and was astonished at how different it seemed. Many of the gadgets and gizmos that had been there with Dumbledore were gone leaving the room feeling a little empty. There was a strange aura surrounding the office. It was sterile, almost stripped of emotion. Then Harry heard a bird's caw and he smiled. He turned to see his old friend Fawkes surrounded by a pile of ash. He had just been reborn and was rapidly re-growing his plumage.

"That's the first time I have ever seen a phoenix regenerate. It was quite enlightening," a voice next to him said. It was McGonagall. "Welcome Mr. Potter. I trust you are comfortable with the classes I chose for you?"

"I noticed that you managed to give me equal time with both Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Not that I'm complaining, just stating an observation."

"It's amazing how much you've grown since the fire," she said suddenly. "Dumbledore always believed in your destiny, you know. He _knew_ you were the Chosen One and was willing to give his life to make sure you were ready."

"Well, he did give his life and now I'm here," Harry said, feeling the old pain return as he remembered how the late Headmaster had died. "Now I wonder why. After all, it's not like Hogwarts is in any real danger. If Riddle truly thinks I am dead, he has no reason to come here. I should be chasing him instead and use the element of surprise to defeat him."

"It might seem like that is the best course of action, but it just shows that you're not ready to face him," she said in a cool tone. "You must finish your seven years of school before you can pursue You-Know-Who. All that is feasible now Harry is to wait. I'm sure you understand that. You _will_ meet him eventually, and _then_ you shall duel."

"That's my destiny isn't it? To defeat Voldemort, and then what? What happens after that? Do I finally get to live my own life, and not one coordinated by another? I want to make my own decisions and my own mistakes. I'm tired of this, just waiting for a certain moment in life, knowing that afterwards there will be nothing to live for. Some might see my situation as a prison until its inevitable freedom, but I see it as a purpose, a meaning that makes life worthwhile. I know that sooner or later I will engage in that fateful duel, but I also know that once it ends, so does that purpose, that meaning. I will then be forced to live a normal life, get a job, waking up early to join the morning rush and punching out late at night to a stale bed with nothing but a thin sheet more for decoration than warmth. All my friends will be gone for they will not stay after learning of my deception. I'll be alone once again. _That_ is my truest destiny, to be alone."

"Yes, wonderful speech Mr. Potter," the Headmistress said. "If not a little long-winded. You must realize that despite your deep analysis of life, you are not normal. You are, in fact the antithesis of normal. You are the Boy Who Lived. That lightning-shaped scar on your forehead that you are currently hiding will forever exemplify you from ever leading a normal life. As for your friends, I should think that upon hearing that you are still alive they would rejoice. I sincerely doubt they will turn away from you, especially if they learn as to why you deceived them. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley are your best friends are they not? They will stay by your side no matter what, I know it." Harry remained quiet in the wake of the elder woman's monologue. Her words made sense of course, but it seemed more like she was trying to cheer him up than anything. As he contemplated her words she stood, indicating that the discussion was over. Nodding his compliance, Harry stood and reached for the door to leave. A thought occurred to him.

"Where are the other Headmasters," he asked out loud, for indeed they were nowhere to be found. Their portraits were bare. A strange tremor ran across McGonagall's lips.

"When they heard I was to become the new Headmistress they became highly upset. I have not seen them since my first night in this office." Harry chuckled upon hearing this before bidding the Headmistress goodbye. The staircase brought him down quickly and the gargoyle winked a stone eyebrow at him before becoming totally stiff again. The teen walked around the halls, vaguely noticing that the sun was setting through an open window. 'Damn, there goes my whole day,' he thought bitterly before turning a corner.

His heart stopped.

There lying spread-eagle on the floor was Kristin. Her body was covered in blood and her limbs were set at strange and hideous angles. Her eyes were wide and unfocused as they stared up at the sky in perpetual fear. There was no movement from her body, not even a breath to tease his sight or hearing. A deep trembling feeling sent his bones into a rattling orchestra. The universe was exploding all around him as he fell to his knees, his eyes never leaving her body. 'She can't be, she can't be, she can't be,' was the only thought that resounded in the recesses of his tortured mind. The tremble grew stronger until it was anguish just sitting there, his knees just inches away from the pool of blood that was surrounding her. Something was scarring his throat and searing his eyes. What was it? 'This pain… so familiar to me. It hurts so much. Why?'

Kristin was walking down the hallway looking for James. He had been gone for hours and the boredom was threatening to crush her under its heel. She was walking down a particularly _long_ hallway when she heard a loud cry pierce the air. It was a sound that sent shivers through her. 'Such pain in that one syllable' she thought with sudden dread. Without hesitation she headed in the direction of the sound. After some walking and turning she could faintly see a figure huddled on its knees over a prone body. It was James on his knees and the body was… 'That's impossible,' her mind's voice said, desperately trying to comprehend what her eyes were seeing. It was _her_ lying there; she was _dead_! For just a split second she imagined Trelawney shaking her finger at her, her glasses bobbing as she chanted "I told you so, I told you so!" That thought shattered as she saw with horror as the body stood up silently, its skin crinkling as if it were paper in a fire. The blood dried and covered the entire body in an angry red. The robes became tight black pants and a black shirt with vertical red stripes covered the badly burned chest. The face was skinless; the dermis around it was so burned it created large indentations across what would have been the cheeks. His teeth were serrated and placed haphazardly on his gums as if by psychotic dentist with an industrial staple gun. A black hat appeared on the bald scalp casting one side of the face in shadow. What caused the scream building in the back of Kristin's throat to finally burst forward was the glove that encased the figure's right hand. On each finger was a long sharpened spike that seemed capable of slicing through her fragile skin like a hot knife through butter. 'No, not him! Please not him, he's not real,' her mind said before the scream sliced away all rational thought.

He was falling, that was the only way to explain the sensation of fiery cold wind blasting his face as the endless abyss loomed over him. It was dark, impenetrable by light. As he fell, the image of Kristin burned in his mind. 'Kristin….' A sound was interrupting his thoughts, his agonized musings. 'What is that? It's so annoying!' The sound continued until Harry finally realized what the sound was. It was screaming! Someone was in trouble. Instantly the wind stopped blowing and he was back in his body. Only the body in front of him was no longer there. It was standing and had taken the form of a grotesque man who seemed to have lost a fight with an industrial iron. And that spiked glove! Overcompensation of ego anyone? Looking over at the source of the scream, Harry felt a wave of emotion break over him as he beheld Kristin alive and well. She had a look of pure horror in the presence of the burned man. 'Horror? Wait a minute. That's a boggart,' Harry thought angrily as he brought out the wand and shot the appropriate spell at it.

"_Riddikulus_," he said out loud even though it was unnecessary. The force of his anger made the man slam against the wall and revert to a smoking ball. Kristin looked on and realized she had been duped. Her temper flaring at being so easily fooled, she stood up and banished the boggart out the window and straight into the Forbidden Forest. Proud with herself she looked over at her friend. Concern replaced pride as she beheld the look in his eyes. There was a sense of intense happiness when he looked at her, but she could also see a raging undercurrent of sadness and pain beneath it. It was from this vast river that he had no doubt produced that soul-breaking cry. 'But why,' she thought. 'Boggarts are supposed to show our deepest fears, so why was it me lying dead in front of him? What does it mean….' Her thoughts were interrupted when she realized that he was walking away.

"Hey! Wait up," she called out as she ran to catch up with him. Her questions were going to have to wait as she fell into step with James. As they walked steadily downward the two noticed that various otherworldly people or objects were chasing the students. Many of them ran from their fears but some resisted and the cleverest ones realized that it was just a boggart and contained it. There were too many boggarts for it to be a coincidence. This had been planned. Upon comprehending this Harry knew where to go. 'Malfoy has something to with this, I know it,' he thought as he half-walked half-ran to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. They reached the entranceway and sure enough there was evil snickering coming from inside.

"MALFOY," James called out making Kristin jump in surprise. The snickering died out as the door opened to reveal Draco surrounded by his glaring housemates. James was unfazed as he grabbed the Slytherin teen by the shirt and pulled him into the hallway. With a wave of his hand the doors shut tightly.

"It was you," he interrogated angrily. "You set loose all these boggarts on the school."

"Maybe," Draco said coolly, fixing his accuser with a hard glare.

"You idiot! Do you have any idea what kind of psychological trauma some of the other students could suffer because of this little stunt," James demanded, shaking the teen against the wall for emphasis. "They could be scarred for life! How dare you be so careless? You are the lowest scum that ever stained the Earth, you and your whole family!" Kristin was shocked at the rage that was radiating from her friend. It was like waves of heat that seemed to distort the air itself. It wasn't even directed at _her_ and she felt intimidated. As for the boy trapped between the wall and the angry teen, he seemed uninterested until the comment about scum and family.

"No one insults my family! I challenge you to a duel, James Harrison."

"Fine by me, its time we settle this. Who's your second?"

"That'll be Crabbe, I'm sure you know him. What about your second?" At the question James looked over at Kristin and smiled. Amazing how that smile reversed the anger he was expressing.

"Kristin will be my second," he announced, locking eyes with Malfoy again. A snide laugh escaped the teen's lips.

"You're choosing the mudblood? This'll be easier than I thought. Tomorrow at sunset at the field by the lake, agreed?" In response James threw him against the door, which was resounding with the pounding of the students trying to open in order to aid their fellow student. As he and Kristin walked away, it swung open with ease.

"What's going on James? What's a second and why did you choose me? Stop walking and answer me please," she finally said irritably and standing in front of him. The teen stopped and looked down at her, the emotions she had seen were gone, but the pendant was a hazy gray.

"It's alright Kristin. He challenged me to a wizard's duel and I said you would be my second. A second is basically the person who steps in and finishes the duel should the first wizard be killed. As for choosing you, I know you are quite capable of taking care of yourself so you seemed like the best choice." The answers came quickly; leaving the girl to pick up whatever pieces she could gather as he continued walking. She tried to follow him, but figured out by his speed that he wanted to be left alone.

A single rod of thick brass protrudes from the top of the North Tower. The moon was full that night and the rod seemed to cut the satellite in half. Leaning on the rod and silhouetted majestically by the pale orb, Harry tried to make sense of the emotions he had been feeling. When he saw Kristin's dead body, it seemed like the world had ended. But there was still the reason why the boggart had chosen that particular image to throw at him. 'They only show your innermost fears! Is that my fear- to lose Kristin?' But there was something else there, another emotion that was troubling him. It was guilt. When he saw the body he had felt guilt. 'So I'm not only afraid of losing her, but I'm afraid that it'll be my fault! That's just great! Does this mean I'm attracted to her? What about her? I wonder how she feels about me? Even if I were attracted, would she accept a fake? After all, she knows James Harrison, not Harry Potter. Can she ever love me? Wait a minute! Love? Where the hell did that come from? Oh, what am I going to do?' As he was thinking, a blur of fur sprinted across the field before disappearing into the Forest. Harry smiled.

"Happy hunting Professor Lupin," he murmured before looking up at the sky. The stars twinkled at him, filling him with random ideas. Plucking out a few bright ones, the teen leapt from the Tower onto the connecting bridge and slid down the slope. He reached the edge and threw himself. The night air whistled loudly as he plummeted to the ground. Windows flew past him at high speeds. Waiting until the right moment, he reached out and grabbed onto the side of the window, feeling his fingers dig into the rock. In one deft motion he entered through the opening and found himself in the Gryffindor common room. Reaching his bed, he unceremoniously fell on it and could feel sleep dragging down his eyes.

In the girl's dormitory, Kristin tossed and turned. The image of James slumped over her body kept coming up. 'I'm reading too much into it. Damn it Kristin, you know he doesn't feel that way about you! Why should he? You are _friends_, nothing more! _But still, he's…._ NO! He's not going to be attracted to a rocker chic like you and that's that!' Amazing how vicious your inner voice can be sometimes, huh? As it was, the young girl finally fell to sleep, the slightest hint of moisture on the tips of her eyes.

The next day many of the teachers questioned students on the boggart incident but no one knew who had done it. Harry said nothing when Temple asked him for information. Kristin looked over at him anxiously, silently pleading for help when the professor asked her. He just shook his head. 'There's no way I'm going to miss this duel. If anyone is going to back out it'll be Malfoy.' That said, Harry went to his final class for the day: Potions. After enduring glaring from Snape and the other Slytherins, Harry was ready to tear something apart. His mood did not go unnoticed because Hermione approached him at the end of class.

"Is something wrong James," she asked with a look of concern on her face. "You seem to be in a bad mood."

"Its nothing Hermione, really. Draco just challenged me to a duel today at sunset. No big deal."

"What! Aren't you going to tell the professors?"

"No way! I've been waiting a long time for this and I know his skill when it comes to dueling."

"A lot has changed since second year," she said heatedly. "Draco is notorious for his dueling abilities. He loves to use Dark spells. I think you should tell the professors."

"What will they do Hermione? Last time Draco was given a week's detention he only served two days! It's time someone taught him a lesson."

"But you could be hurt!"

"I appreciate the concern, really I do, but I will be fine. Just go to dinner and do your homework. I'll see you soon." Seeing that his old friend still looked worried, he said, "Hermione, believe me when I say that this duel is long overdue. It has to happen, it _must_ happen. Please don't try to stop me." Hermione hesitated when she saw the determination in her friend's eyes. She couldn't help but worry about him, but if he wanted it so bad, then she would not refuse him.

"Who's your second," she asked in an effort to lighten the mood.

"That would be Kristin. What a team right," he said lightly and the young woman in front of him smiled. Bowing his head in farewell he left the dungeon and headed to his rendezvous with his second. She was leaning against a column watching the sun set with a thoughtful look. Occasionally a round bubble of gum would appear between her lips and pop once it reached maximum size. For a minute Harry just stood watching her. Finally he walked up behind her and rubbed his fingertips across her waist. She gasped loudly and wheeled around to see James smiling broadly at her. Wanting to keep up appearances (as well as trying to resist the voice in her veins that was pleading for his touch again), she screwed up her face angrily and poked him as hard as she could on the chest.

"What the hell? You scared the crap out of me! Warn me next time," she said, feeling her cheeks burning when she realized what she had said. 'Next time?' Her slip-up did not go unnoticed.

"I'll make sure to remember that. You ready for our duel," he asked with his eyes studying her intently. When she nodded he led her to the appointed place by the lake to await their opponents. For a second Harry doubted that Malfoy would appear and pull the same trick he had done in his first year. But, just as the sun touched the distant horizon, he could see the two Slytherins walking toward them. Draco wore a bright green robe that could have easily passed as a dress if it had just one more frill on the shoulder. As for Crabbe, he wore a simple black cloak with hood draped over his face. The duelists met at the exact center of their invisible circle and glared at each other. With one final glare they turned around and took the customary ten paces. On the final pace Kristin held her breath as they pivoted at the same time and began the duel.

* * *

And just like that I end the chapter. Hehehehe, it feels good to toy with lives like this. By the way, any suggestions as to how the duel should end, let me know! Ja ne


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer**: _Still_ don't own'em

Sorry for the long lapse between chapters, school finally caught up with me. Anyways, here's the next installment

**Chapter Seven: Where I Want To Be**

Malfoy attacked first, shooting a Disarming spell at James. The teen sidestepped and dodged the beam, firing a spell.

"_Incendio_," James screamed as a blast of fire shot from the tip of the wand and barreled toward Malfoy. The cocky teen waited until the last minute before diving to his right and firing three spells in mid-air: Stupefication, Entrapment, and the Tickling Curse. The first missed, the second managed to tie up his legs and allowed the last spell to hit him right in the chest. A thousand goose feathers were running across James' skin making his body spasm with the sensation. But just as the spells took effect James shook them off and stood up straight, pointing his wand leisurely at his opponent. 'It's time to get serious,' he thought with a smile. Malfoy moved to launch another spell just as James began running toward him.

"Come on, Harrison," the Slytherin said loudly as he flicked his wand at the approaching teen. Kristin felt a thrill of fear pass across her like a cold breeze. "_Stupefy_!" The thrill crested as the teen and spell collided. But wait, where was James? She looked around and caught a glimpse of him. He was right behind Malfoy! Before the teen could turn around James had him wrapped up in so many ropes he seemed like a freakish caterpillar in his cocoon. The victor was grinning widely as he stood over his opponent with his foot pressed into Malfoy's chest. Absorbed in his triumph, he did not notice Crabbe raise his wand and aim at him. Kristin sprang into action, firing a Disarming spell at the offending mountain, who keeled over without a peep. The smile he graced on her made her wish that the boy _did_ get up so that she could do it again, anything for his smile. 'Goddamnit, I need to get out of here before I do something enormously stupid,' she thought desperately as she tried to discretely exit the scene. James fell into step behind, the smile still on his face, feeling an intense euphoria from his victory. 'For you, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.' As for Malfoy, he remained trapped inside the ropes, the concept of defeat sinking in slowly. As it spread like a virus across his mind it slid into his subconscious. The core of his aristocratic ideals and pride refused to accept the outcome of the duel. The virus warped and became a blind animalistic rage that was focused on one solitary person: _James Harrison_. He began to push the ropes farther and farther apart, a slight aura surrounding his body. The binds loosened until with a cry Draco was free. He got to his feet quickly and looked for his victim, breathing deeply in a vain attempt to contain the rage that was consuming him. They were walking away! Leaving him like a sack of trash! How dare they!

"DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME," he screamed as he stabbed the air with his wand, "_Avada Kedavra_!" Harry felt his heart freeze at the words and wheeled around to catch the green light rushing toward him and Kristin, who was slower to turn around. Acting quickly he pushed her away from the path of the Killing Curse before jumping out of the way. The light past through and hit a tree, withering it until it died. James looked over incredulously at the Slytherin and realized with horror that Kristin had landed at his feet. "_Fucking Yankee slut_," he hissed as he pointed the wand at her prone body. "_Avada-_" he started but was unable to finish due to James' fist connecting with his chin.

"Don't you fucking hurt her," he screamed at Malfoy. Draco snarled and brought his wand to bear, but James knocked it out of the way, preferring to use his fists to knock the hellspawn back. No sooner did Malfoy hit the floor then he got up and took a boxer's stance. He put up a valiant fight, but James easily broke through and proceeded to beat the living crap out of him. The Slytherin's anger was ebbing through cuts on his skin under the pounding of James' fists, until it was a struggle just to hold onto his consciousness. As for the attacker, he was so caught up in his memories that the punches he was throwing no longer registered. From Kristin's point of view, it looked like he was going to kill the Slytherin. Even then she could see that the rage James was feeding on was filled with sadness. 'I have to stop him before something terrible happens.' She moved over to him and slowly but firmly put her hands on his shoulders. The moment Harry felt her touch he realized what was happening. The world rushed back to him, pushing away the white light that had been surrounding him. Dropping the beaten boy on the floor, he took deep breaths to calm down. As for Malfoy, he brought his knees to his chin and had a look of pure disbelief on his face. A loud gasp behind him made him look back. 'Rosalyn,' he thought as he beheld the source of the sound. The Ravenclaw ran to his side and stared wide-eyed at his wounds. James watched the scene as the muggle-born tried to heal the wounds but was failing. Making his decision the teen brought out his healing powder and poured it over all of his opponent's body. Saying nothing to him he threw the pouch at the girl and instructed her to use it on any wounds that were hidden. As he and Kristin walked back to the castle, they heard Malfoy speak.

"This is not over Harrison, I swear I will have my revenge," he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly. His words were big, but he hardly had the capacity to act on them at the moment. All he could see was the face of his girlfriend as she rubbed powder under his shirt. There were tears in her eyes, she was crying for him. Not even his own mother cried for him! The duel suddenly flashed in his mind up until he shot the Killing Curse. The implications of what he had attempted to do in his rage made his body shudder. 'I had tried to _kill_ them. What is wrong with me? Why did I let my rage get to me like that,' he thought as Rosalyn wrapped her arms around him, consoling him with murmurs. As for the victors, they just walked into the school. Not a word was said between them. Kristin was torn between her need to know and her wish to give him privacy. 'Where had that come from, that rage,' she thought as she looked over at him. His eyes were blank and his movements seemed almost mechanical. There was no emotion in his body language as he led the two to an unknown destination. She wasn't sure whether she should be following him or not, but the look he had had in his eyes when he was beating Malfoy told her he should not be alone right now. They continued downward toward the dungeons and the boy walked into a random one on his right. It was empty except for some chairs and a table over at the far-right corner. Kristin took a seat as she watched the teen facing away from her and waited.

Harry did not know where he was going, but it had to be far away from _him_. His mind was raging with the torture of his repressed memories and he needed to vent. He reached the dungeon and felt anger reach across his skin with bony fingers toward his heart. His hands were shaking violently and breathing seemed harder to do, each breath was like swallowing a mouthful of water. He was drowning, drowning in his fury until he did what he had wanted to do since he first looked upon Malfoy's face on the train platform: he screamed. He poured all his anger, all his pain into that scream. There were tears in his eyes, falling down his cheeks before splashing onto the floor. He knew there was but no longer cared. It was too much to carry around, too much information in his mind. Why did Dumbledore send him back when he knew this would happen? 'Dumbledore _knew_ that it was Draco's fault Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley were killed! Why, old man, why?'

Kristin had been taken aback when he suddenly screamed. She got up and walked up to him and noticed the tears, crystalline drops of cerulean water falling down his cheek. An ache pulled on her heart at the sight. 'He doesn't deserve the pain he's feeling,' she thought, tears welling in her own eyes as she embraced him. A little voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her to let him go, he was a male, untrustworthy, but she did not listen. 'He needs someone right now,' she told herself as he eventually ceased his screaming and became silent.

When Harry felt arms hug him he thought for a split second that Helga was holding him within her loving arms again. He opened his eyes and saw Kristin burying her head into his chest. Her body was warm against his as it fought off the cold air that permeated the dungeon. That same warmth also fought the anger until with a sad smile he wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on her crown.

"Thank you," she heard him say and she smiled.

"Just returning the favor. Are you okay now? Want to talk about it?"

"Maybe later," he answered and tightened the embrace. Now that the crises was over, Kristin realized that she was so close to him one could say they were merged together. Heat was flaring in her cheeks and her palms had become oddly sweaty. The voice in her head was louder now as it screamed at her to let go immediately but she did not want to. It would be wrong not to comfort him after he had done the same for her after the Cheering Charm episode. Still, she was relieved when he finally broke the embrace. The heat was subsiding swiftly but it left an empty feeling in its wake. Then he started talking and the empty feeling was replaced by shock. "There is a lot of bad blood between Malfoy and I that he doesn't know about," he said. "Four years ago, he and his father participated in a terrible event that resulted in the death of my last remaining family. That last spell he used is known as the Killing Curse, the worse Unforgivable Curse. If that beam of light had hit you it would've killed you instantly. I could never forget that green light, nor could I forgive who shot it. It was his fault, totally his fault!" Kristin said nothing as this information registered. So that was why he always got so upset whenever Malfoy was around. 'That also explains the harsh remarks whenever that slime speaks to him. Oh James.'

"I'm sorry you had to suffer all this time, but if it helps, I think Malfoy will _never_ forget today. Even if there won't be any physical bruises, you can bet your ass there will be a bruised pride to take care of," she said with a smile. He did not answer, but she could see the corners of his lips tugging upwards. He stood up to signal it was time to leave.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry," he said as they headed to the Great Hall, the conversation forgotten. The doors opened dramatically and everyone present looked over at who was coming in. Most of them returned to their food but some, especially Hermione, studied them carefully. He smiled at his old friend reassuringly before taking his seat next to Kristin. They ate in companionable silence until it came time to leave. Inside the common room he bid her goodbye before entering his dormitory. She sat in her bed lost in thought. 'I could have sworn Malfoy's girl was a Muggle,' she thought, coining the word used for non-magic people. 'That's weird, to hate all muggle-born wizards while at the same time dating one. Unless… he doesn't know about it!' An evil smile slashed across her face. A devilish idea had blossomed in her mind. Lying back on her pillow she laughed herself to sleep with the irony that was the proud Draco Malfoy.

Time passed as winter made its yearly visit to Hogwarts. Kristin awoke one day to find the window by her bed covered in a white powder. Upon closer inspection she found it cold and wet to the touch. Rubbing her sleeve on the window she looked out and saw the entire grounds blanketed with the same powder. That was when it dawned on her. 'This is snow! Oh my god it's snow!' Struggling to put on clothes as quickly as possible she ran down the stairs only to find James standing by the fire waiting for her. The ecstatic look on her face as well as what she chose to wear made him smile.

"Good morning Kristin," he said still smiling.

"Hi James," she said eagerly. "It's snowing! Come on, let's go make some snow angels and maybe even a snowman!"

"Ok, sounds like a plan. But are you sure you want to go out wearing that?"

"What do you-," she said as she looked down at her clothes. She was wearing a long-sleeve shirt with another shirt on top that contained an image of Metallica, her favorite band, black pants, and black boots.

"It just seems to me that it might be a tad too cold for just one layer of clothing. Do you have a jacket or something to put on over that and maybe some gloves?" Grumbling and complaining, she obediently went back to her room to find what she needed. Choosing a black leather jacket and matching leather gloves, she walked out and impatiently showed her chaperone. He smiled and motioned her to leave first. The excitement as she ran down the stairs to the courtyard and with a cry of girlish delight she ran out onto the snow. She fell to her knees and scooped some of the powder feeling its cold wetness. Getting some more she rolled it into a tight little ball. Smiling mischievously she turned to face her friend. His eyes widened at the projectile in her hand. Taking aim she threw it as hard as she could. James just grinned as the snowball arched toward him. Right before the ball could hit him he caught it, using magic in order to keep intact.

"Hey! That's not fair," Kristin whined in disappointment.

"Sorry, the rulebooks were sold out when I arrived," he said as he made more than ten snowballs appear around him. Kristin's pout changed to determination as she realized what he intended to do. 'Two can play that game,' she thought as she whipped out her wand and waited. The taller teen pointed his hands forward causing the snowballs to fly at Kristin. The girl reacted quickly, burning each snowball before it hurt her. Exhaling loudly (noticing with delight the white smoke that escaped her lips) she looked over with triumph at the wiseass only to find he wasn't there. Hearing a whistle behind her, she turned in time to feel a blast of cold crash into her chest. There he stood, the same smile on his face as more snowballs than before spun around him. He snapped his fingers, sending the balls at her. Yelping she ran and hid behind a column. The thump of the balls against the stone was incessant. All she could do was wait until it was over. When they stopped she burst out with her wand ready. He was gone again! She looked around frantically. A tap on her shoulder made her whip around, effectively smacking James across the face with her wand. He fell back clutching his face.

"I'm so sorry," she said, once again calling on her Drama experiences as she formed a snowball behind her. "Here, this should make you feel _better_," she continued and shoved the icy sphere into the teen's face. He sputtered and shook his head to clear the snow away from his face. He looked over at her smiling face in mock anger.

"Oh yeah, you are going to regret ever doing that!"

"Really? Let's see you try." He took a step toward her and she backed away. Laughing she kicked snow at him before taking off into the field. He gave chase at a slow pace, holding back so that he could drag it out. He had to admit he liked the view of her bouncing body from behind as he followed her in her aimless run. As for her, she started thinking that maybe running in such cold weather was not the smartest thing to do as her lungs protested against all the cold air she was breathing. She wouldn't stop though, who knows what he might do if he caught her? Following that train of thought, she imagined the million and one things James might do, some decidedly more naughty than the others. She shook her head before she could complete her list, reminding herself that he was a guy, just a regular guy, an Adonis of a guy, sculpted like a… 'Stop that Kristin!' She ran faster. Harry continued to jog behind her until he realized where she was headed. It's going to see her as an intruder,' he thought with horror as his trot became an all-out race to save her. The branch was mere inches away when the teen passed Kristin and jumped at her. A gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she found herself on top of James on the floor. She looked at him for an explanation but his eyes were focused behind her.

"NO," he screamed in a tone that commanded absolute obedience, causing her rebellious nature to flare unintentionally. Confused, she looked to where his eyes were looking and saw a particularly thick branch from the Whomping Willow hovering millimeters above her head. It slowly moved away, allowing the two to stand up. James walked over to the tree and smacked the offensive branch with an audible slap. "You cannot hurt her," she heard him say, sounding like a father admonishing an unruly child. The tree made a shudder of understanding before retracting its branches. The teen turned to her and nodded in triumph.

"Thanks."

"No problem. What do you say we get started on that snowman," he asked as rolled a large ball of snow with his wand. Smiling anew, Kristin was hit with an idea.

"Last to make three snowmen has to set up a whole day of fun for the winner. You game?" His smile was whiter than the powder that fell around him.

"All right, let's do it." Needing no further encouragement, Kristin began forming the different sized lumps of snow to make her snowmen. Piling them one on top of the other haphazardly. Conjuring the customary black hat, beans, branches, and a carrot she placed them where they belonged and moved on to the next snowmen. Harry watched her, amused at how fast she was working as he added another carefully sized snowball to his snowperson. He wasn't too keen on losing the bet, but it might not be so bad if he did. Ideas of fun whirled in his mind as another snowball formed in midair. Kristin pushed out one last spurt of energy and with a cry of happiness revealed her three snowmen. They were a lumpy lot, with many bumps and dents all over their bodies. Adding the slightly goofy grins they seemed more like the survivors of an intense fight. Proud nonetheless, she dared James to top her speed. The teen looked crestfallen as he showed the three he had been working on. One was the traditional fat man consisting of three large snowballs of varying sizes. Its arms were wooden and reached down to the bottom ball. The teen had chosen a small carrot for the nose and all the black beans created a joyful grin on the snowman's face and his black eyes seemed to twinkle. The hat on top was placed at an angle and completed the first snowperson. The next was what Kristin could only call a snowwoman. Looking closer she saw that he had made her anatomically correct. 'Explains the smile on the snowman's face," she thought with a snicker. The third was smaller than the other two and still undeveloped. It was no doubt a child. It was clear who was the more skillful of the two. Thankfully, that wasn't part of the bet.

"I win, which means you're going to have to treat me to a good time." Her cheeks felt red-hot suddenly and she looked away, finding the fingers of her snowmen to be extremely interesting.

"A good time, huh? Well, I think I have just the thing, but you'll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade visit." Kristin groaned in frustration. The next visit wasn't for another two weeks!

"Can I at least get a little preview of what to expect? Or are you going to be cruel to me?" He merely smiled, the bastard, before putting his finger to his lips.

"Don't worry, I promise it'll be great. But before we go inside for breakfast, I need to ask you something." Walking up to her until she could feel his warm breath on her left cheek, he whispered in her ear, "Where do you want to be?" She was speechless. What can you possibly say to a hot guy who had his cheek a mere breath's space away from yours and all you can think is how smooth it looked from your perspective? Then the sudden image of his teeth nibbling on your earlobe pops into your mind and it's just too much. Kristin moved back and struggled to compose herself.

"Well, um, I've always wanted to visit Greece," she finally stammered out between deep breaths. "But my parents always said no."

"Got it," he said with that same evasive smile. "Come on, let's get some breakfast before Malfoy and his lapdogs eat it all." That was all that was said on the matter. Two weeks past excruciatingly slow and it finally came time for the visit to Hogsmeade. James said nothing as they took the carriages to the village. As they went from shop to shop, occasionally buying candy or other things, Kristin began wondering if he had forgotten about the bet. Then the wind blew and her focus turned to the offensive cold. Snow had been fun the first day she saw it, but after having to trudge through it for fifteen minutes she was ready to curse it to oblivion. In her angry muttering she did not notice the subtle changes her companion made in their path. It wasn't until they stood at the gate to an old rundown shack did she detect anything peculiar.

"What are we doing here James," she said impatiently, unwilling to deal with his games at the moment. He said nothing; instead he dropped the purchase bags behind a rock and walked up to her. He reached his hand out before speaking.

"Remember our bet? Well, I think it's time I show you that good time," he said, the words causing puffs of white smoke to escape his lips. She was confused at his actions, but relinquished her hand. He clasped it firmly and closed his eyes, prompting her to do the same. Just as her eyes closed a blast of warm air slammed into her chest causing her to almost fall over. It felt like being caught in a wind tunnel. She chanced a look and almost screamed to see her feet moving above the surface of what she recognize as the ocean ocean. Forgetting all pretenses she clung to James in fear. She looked in front to see a mass of land rushing at her and she flinched and closed her eyes, bracing for impact. The roar of the wind reached a deafening pitch before ceasing completely. The abrupt absence of sound left Kristin's ears ringing. That was the first sensation. What came next was a blanket of heat that caused her to sweat immediately. She tentatively opened her eyes to blinding sunshine and beige walls. Releasing her death grip, the American removed her jacket and looked around. One thing she was sure of: they were no longer in London.

"Welcome to the land of Greece Ms. Meyers. Here is where I shall give you the time of your life." Her mind was in turmoil. He was lying to her, had to be. There was just no possible way that she could be standing on Grecian soil. Her eyes moved from house to house, searching for any clue that could show it was all just a hoax. That flag over by the square, what color was it? Oh no, it's cerulean and white! There's the stripes, all nine of them with the white cross over a blue background in the top right hand corner. And over on the other side she could just make out what looked disturbingly like the Acropolis. Is that the Parthenon? It was sinking in that she was in fact standing in the ancient world of Zeus and Apollo, of Hades and Demeter and Artemis and Poseidon; hell, even Hercules made his home here! She looked over at James, tears threatening to spill forth as she embraced him.

"Thank you so much," she whispered into his robe, afraid that if she spoke aloud her voice would betray her. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"Whatever pleases you, it will be done. This is your day and I humbly prostrate myself before you, but just for today," he added with a glint in his eye before bowing low in front of her. He smirked during his bow, knowing full well that he had done something momentously good for her. 'I wonder if she'll return the favor?' Confining such impure thoughts back into the darker recesses of his cranium, he followed after his companion. She skipped along the cobblestone street burning all the things she saw into her mind. She visited many of the shops but found that the language and currency barrier prevented her from buying any souvenirs. James saw her predicament and brandished a leather pouch filled with euro. She flashed a wide smile at her as she bought herself a chiton. Inspired, Harry decided to buy one too. All across the shops of the nameless village they walked, buying whatever caught her fancy. Happiness was filling her much like the bags she was carrying. It seemed like a dream these large houses and the random stones that covered the floor, but it was nonetheless a welcome one. Once the shops ended Kristin asked to see the Acropolis. James hailed down a taxi, placed all the bags in the trunk and whispered to the cabbie. The vehicle lurched forward and the once pleasant streets turned into a breathtaking roller coaster of descents and ascents. By the time they entered through the white marble pillars of the famous Propylaea the poor Floridian, unaccustomed to the high elevations of the peninsula, swooned and fell onto James' lap, moaning from the severe nausea. Chuckling softly he paid the cabbie and brought her to her feet outside the taxi, which sped away the moment the trunk was empty. Leaning the still queasy tourist against his shoulder he began explaining to her the origins of the great temple. She listened silently as he told her of how it was finished in 438 B.C. and was dedicated to the Greek goddess of wisdom, Athena Parthenos. She knew all of this of course, having obsessed over the Greek Gods for some time and learning all she could about the people who worshipped them, but it was soothing to hear his voice and feel the steady thump of his heartbeat. Once the nausea was gone she walked over in an effort to touch one of the pillars. It was smooth and cool to the touch and she felt a spark of something transfer from the marble to her hand. It was ancient and had seen many things, held on as religion wracked the country. Now it stood as a proud memory of times long gone. Behind it was the Erechtheum, a massive temple dedicated to several deities, including Athena and Poseidon, and housed the Athenians' most sacred statue, a wooden image of Athena Polias (Athena, goddess of the city). Kristin wanted to get a closer look but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry chic, time's up," James said, disappointment evident in his voice. She groaned loudly and was ready to protest but was silenced by her jacket being thrown at her. "No. We have to go back now or the professors may suspect something. Besides, it's about time to return to Hogwarts anyway. Now the only problem is what to do with all these bags." He muttered softly to himself while she put on her jacket reluctantly. 'I don't want to go, not yet. There's still some stuff I want to see, stuff I want to show you,' she thought miserably. She took one last look at the ruins of the Parthenon as her companion placed his arm on her shoulders. Closing her eyes she felt the blast of wind that signaled they were leaving Greece. Once the wind released her she was met with a stinging slap the cold of British winter. James summoned the Hogsmeade bags to the rest of the pile and studied it carefully. Finally he tapped the Grecian bags and made them invisible and had them float behind him as they walked back to the village. Feeling a draft Kristin leaned alongside James for warmth. He placed his arm on her shoulder and in this manner they reached the train just as it started up its engine. Commandeering a compartment for themselves, the teen placed all the bags, visible and not, discretely into the seat. Locking behind Kristin, he sat down with a loud flop. 'Damn those bags were heavy,' he thought as the locomotive lurched forward. Fifteen minutes later it stopped on the Hogwarts Platform and students piled out of the carts. As James and Kristin walked out of their cart they found themselves at the end of a line. At the front was Filch, the hard-ass janitor, inspecting each bag, no doubt searching for any pranks and knick-knacks that may cause too much happiness. James smiled when he heard his female counterpart gasp in fear. Concentrating, he willed all the bags that were not from Hogsmeade over to the castle and onto her bed. "Don't worry," he said in her ear. "I got it covered. Just be careful when sitting on your bed." She nodded in understanding as she placed her bags under the penetrating gaze of Filch. After a raised eyebrow at her choice of sweets he waved her by. Upon reaching the castle the two went straight to their common room for some much-needed rest. The euphoria of the visit now past, Kristin could feel her soles howling for reprieve. When it came time to part at the entrance to her dormitory, she threw inhibition to the wind and embraced her friend with all her strength.

"Thank you again," she said breathlessly before disappearing into her room. Relieved to find it empty, she began to carefully feel the mattress. Sure enough, there were the bags from Greece still hidden by James' spell. She browsed around until she felt the silk of her brand-new chiton. It was a beautiful lavender gown that was held up by an intricately designed pin in the shape of a lion on the nape of her neck. A black sash draped over the velvet from the left shoulder to the right thigh, with a matching black rope so that it could be tied around her waist. It was stunning and fit her very nicely, having modeled it for James in the back of the store. The moment rushed back to her as she held the gown, her thumb running across the surface. From the moment she had entered the store the chiton had caught her eye. It was the exact shade of her eye and she immediately picked it out, spinning it around to get a full view of it with a squeal of delight akin to that of a child's first toy. She had to know if it would fit and pleaded with her companion silently for permission. He nodded and followed her as they went to the dressing rooms in back. Having only studied the mythology of Greece, she of course had no idea how to tie it. The mirror reflected her distress as she let out a loud groan.

"What's wrong," she heard James ask from outside the dressing room. Using the whiniest voice she could she relayed her lack of knowledge and was rewarded with a chuckle. A moment later he appeared inside the dressing room with a chiton of his own. Motioning at her to turn around, she faced the wall. The rustle of clothes being removed teased her ears and the temptation to sneak a peek was overwhelming. Finally she felt the tap on her shoulder and she turned to look at him. The chiton he had chosen was gold with red sash and red bind. The pin was a lightening bolt. Never taking his eyes off hers, he brought the badge over and pinned it right where his heart would be. He then put the sash over his shoulder and tied the rope around his waist. Once it was done, he did a few twirls for her. Kristin felt her throat tighten as she eyed the muscles that peeked through the chiton and she confirmed that his tan was indeed full-body. At that last thought her cheeks flared and she quickly thanked him. 'Damn this store and its one dressing room,' came the thought as he left to allow her to try with her gown. She removed her clothing and wormed herself into the velvet, cooing at its feel on her skin. Now that it was on, it was time to place the pin. Bringing the sheet around her neck until it formed a thin oval on her upper chest (showing a little cleavage, but not enough to derail her persona) she fastened it on the back of her neck. She took a look in the mirror before showing it to James. 'Score,' she thought triumphantly when his jaw fell to the floor with an audible thump. Struggling to pull it back up, he finally held it up long enough to praise her before having it fall to the ground again. The feeling of control over this, even if she knew it was all an act (there was no way the chiton would affect him this way), was intoxicating. She had to have this gown; there was just no doubt about it. She gave it to the cashier who rang it up along with the one James was getting, adding up to a grand total of sixty-eighty euro. Once it was bought they moved on…

The sound of the dormitory door opening startled her from her thoughts and Kristin hastily put the gown back into the invisible bags and sat to see who was walking int. Parvati and Lavender entered, their hands filled with Hogsmeade bags. They were talking loudly about the visit, oblivious to anyone else in the room. Kristin just laid down, not willing to listen to them. They always talked about the stupidest things- boys, boys, boys, clothing, and boys. Wait, did they just say James? Interested, the Floridian strained to hear. Let it be known she was _not_ eavesdropping, merely sharing a mutual awareness of the conversation and its premise.

"What do you know about that guy Harrison," asked Lavender from her bed to her friend.

"Just that he's devastatingly cute and smart," she said with a dazed smile. Kristin rolled her eyes. 'Anyone could have told you that! And aren't you already going out with someone?'

"I know! But he's always so quiet. Everyone knows that he knows the answer to a question but he just lets Granger answer anyway. I love his long hair too, it looks so soft and silky," Lavender added with her own smile. "I want to touch it so bad. I heard he's really built. I heard he's been living his entire life outdoors so he's really tanned. I wonder if its true," she said, suddenly looking over at the other girl in the room. "Hey Meyers! You and Harrison are friends. What's he like?" Suddenly Kristin felt on the spot, not sure what to say. Parvati and Lavender were notoriously known for their big mouths, so telling them of her experience would not be the smartest way to go.

"Well," she began, picking her words carefully. "He's not that bad. He talks only when he wants to and, um, he can be sweet. Also, I think he has a pet bird."

"Oh that's nothing," Parvati said. "Ronny has a rat and a white owl that he says belonged to Harry Potter. Anyway, if he was so built and loved the outdoors so much why isn't he on the Quidditch team? He's probably afraid of hurting himself, the pretty boy."

"That's not true," Kristin said, rising to defend her friend. "You should have seen him on the first day of school! He took on the whole team and made them look like a joke! So don't go talking shit!"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, you lying little bitch," Patil retaliated as she stood up from her bed. "You Yankees are all the same. You love embellishing things. Beat the whole team? I doubt he could stand up to the Hufflepuff team, much less ours." Lavender tried to intervene but was pushed aside by the angry girls.

"Oh I am so _sick_ of being called a Yankee! Listen you arrogant fucking bitch; you don't know the first thing about James, or about your own boyfriend for that matter. Why don't you get your head out of your ass, remove the foot from your mouth and pay attention! James Harrison is more of a man than that Weasley, and I dare anyone to prove me otherwise!"

"What's going on here," the voice of Hermione called from the door. The bickering instantly stopped and the girls retreated to their respective beds just as the prefect entered. "Oh no, don't give me that fake innocence scene. Lavender, what happened?" The girl in question tried to act nonchalant, but buckled under the piercing gaze.

"Parvati and Meyers were having a little argument, that's all," she said with a shooing motion of her hands as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"So I am to assume that the one who was doing all the screaming was you," the prefect asked with a raised eyebrow. No one answered and she let it go with a sigh. An awkward silence descended on the dormitory. Kristin resumed her position before the quarrel started, lying on her pillow. But the topic would not leave her mind, that damn mass of tissue deciding to list all of James' qualities against her will. 'He's tall, has long hair, always wears that black bandana and pendant, is very smart, quiet, and a total sweetie to his friends. But, he can be very sad, angry, and in pain too. He really is a mystery.' The list continued slowly southward until she was slightly embarrassed as to how detailed her imagination could be. Feeling her cheeks burn, she pushed her head into her pillow and until it was over. Once she was sure that there was nothing else to describe, Kristin turned until she was facing her imperceptible bags and began to discretely fumble through them. This behavior went unnoticed by everyone but Hermione, who watched the scene with great interest. Once the two friends left to get some dinner, the young girl approached Meyers' bed.

"So, um, did you enjoy Hogsmeade in winter," she asked the American. A shiver ran through her and Hermione heard her giggle.

"It was okay, just really cold! God, I could feel my cheeks freeze over," she answered, turning to face her friend. Besides James, she liked talking with Hermione even if she was a prefect. She was cool, and certainly more mature than any of the other girls in the dormitory. "I don't know how you can handle this God-awful cold Hermione!"

"Well, we're kind of used to it so it doesn't affect us like it would you Kristin. But enough of that, tell me, did you buy anything?"

"Oh yeah! I got a bunch of candies and plenty of other stuff!"

"Really? I could have sworn I saw you and James walking in the direction of the Shrieking Shack and last time I checked there were no shops around there," the prefect said with a small smile, daring her to deny the fact. Kristin could feel her cheeks grow a little pale as she tried to concoct a good enough lie. Even though he had never said so, she understood that James had probably broken many school rules in taking her to Greece.

"I don't remember going to the Shrieking Shack, are you sure of what you saw," she asked in a sweet voice. Now Hermione was annoyed but she could play along for a while.

"I'm pretty sure I saw James going with some girl in that direction… maybe it was someone else? She looked a lot like you," she said, trailing off softly while gauging her reaction. To her surprise the American merely smiled at her.

"Yeah, that must have been it. Some girl around here is copying my style. You would think that they could have a little more originality, dontcha think?" That was the last straw; she had lost patience with the Yankee. She shrugged at her, deciding to coax the information from James instead. The prefect bid her goodbye before heading to the Great Hall for dinner. Kristin gave out a huge sigh of relief before falling back on her pillow. 'Thank God she was able to provide the excuse! I honestly could not think of anything to tell her,' she thought with a smile as she rummaged around her bags again.

Harry sat leaning on his wall on his bed, thinking about his day. More specifically, he was thinking about the trip to Greece. He remembered the look on her face when she learned where they had gone. It had been so priceless he wished he had taken a picture. Then there was the way she watched everything with that wide-eyed wonder and joy that was so unlike her. But at the same time, it seemed more like her than anything before. He was glad that he had managed to get some euro beforehand because she just started buying up all the stores. Then there was that clothing store. He had to admit they had some nice garments for sale there. When she went back to try on a chiton, he had a feeling she didn't know how to put it on. He had learned how to from one of the books in the Hogwarts library, a musty old thing that seemed as old as dirt, not to mention it was in Ancient Greek, but it was simple enough that he was able to understand how it was done. After showing her and getting a little blush from her as she checked him out ('Gotcha!'), he waited until she had hers on. Oh man, when she came out of that rinky-dink little room with a mirror Harry found himself short of breath. She looked so captivating in the gown and the way she stood, so full of confidence and triumph, was enough to make him want to bring her into his arms, stare into her eyes and… 'What? What do I want to do?' He tossed and turned desperately as the image of the in her gown, the swell of her bosom and how the silk wrapped around her hips so delicious- 'Stop it you pervert! No more of that tonight Mr. Potter! Since when do I think to myself in third person? I need to get out of here,' he thought as he left the dormitory and leapt out the window. He would've gone through the portrait but he heard someone coming and he was not in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment. Landing with a soft thump he made his way to the Whomping Willow. Upon reaching the tree it launched a branch at him. He dodged it, jumping on it and running up until he was inches from the trunk of the tree. One caress on its bark and it relaxed.

"Not here to train tonight," he whispered as he got comfortable on one of the softer branches. "Just want some time to stare at the heavens, if that's alright with you." The tree swayed in agreement before becoming perfectly still. Harry watched the sky, working out whatever constellations he could. Hours past in this fashion until he was bored with the stars and decided to try something else to pass the time. "Hey willow, you think you can stretch your branches up as high as you can? While you're at it, sway a little bit. I want to try jumping from branch to branch for a spell." The sagely tree complied with the request and moved as if under a mysterious wind. Running up one of the branches, Harry jumped into the air, spinning as he reached for the stars before plummeting to the ground. He reached out and grabbed a thick bough, swinging from it onto another and running up again. He continued doing this, each time going higher and higher until with an immense burst of energy he shot high into the air until he was overlooking the castle and the Forbidden Forest. Using the Levitation spell to stay in the air, he sighed at the silent tranquility before him. 'There are no worries up here. No destinies looming over the horizon, no classes, and no girls to confuse the hell out of me,' he thought. Thinking about it some more, he finally said out loud, "But where's the fun in that?" Shaking off the spell, he let the wind sing to him as he returned to earth. At the last moment a branch appeared and swung him, effectively slowing him down enough to land on his feet. Sighing deeply he made his way back to the common room.

Winter reached its apex on the night a certain red-cheeked fellow was to visit his jollity on the world. Intense snowstorms had blocked in all the students from leaving the school so they packed themselves around fireplaces, eagerly awaiting the night and the new dawn when they would be allowed to rip apart brilliantly colored paper from packages in order to find an offering from their parents bribing them, acknowledging their existence, and passing down outdated love to their offspring. Harry sighed as he stood by the window by the stairs to the dormitories, reveling in his recollections. He remembered a time when he had hated this particular holiday, before Hogwarts. His aunt and uncle always seemed to forget about him during that time of the year, focusing instead on their little Dudley. He resented it to no end, but deep down he had held out that faint flicker of hope that maybe that year, just maybe, they might finally concede that he did in fact exist. Alas, every year for ten years he was cruelly denied. Then came Hogwarts, where he had gained friends and a sense of belonging he had never known. And the gifts, oh those wonderful gifts from Mrs. Weasley! How could Ron ever hate those sweaters she had made with so much love? He treasured them! That was a welcome change indeed. And even after he left the school and went to live in the valley, he and the Founders always had nice little dinners and there was that same feeling of belonging. Now it would be just like it was ten years ago: no presents, no smiles from close friends, nothing. Being so close to his old friends for over four months without them knowing whom he was had been taking its toll on him. Every night he went to bed after training feeling drained physically and emotionally. He wanted to be with them tomorrow, celebrate the holiday, but it would not be. No more talks around the fire with Helga and Godric, no meaningful discussions in history and religion with Rowena, no enduring the dull and lengthy aristocratic stories from Salazar, none of the hilarious conversations in the common room with Ron and Hermione. The aspiring Head Girl had finally begun opening up to him, telling him every adventure she could remember with Ron and himself. Although he would've never had admitted it six years ago, it was true that he and his fellow Musketeers had been quite the wanderers. But enough with this sad reminiscence! Wrenching his eyes from the window he looked for Kristin but she was not in the common room. 'I wonder where she went. Maybe I'll go looking for her,' he thought as he left the room. Listing all the possible places she could be, he began his search for the American.

She sat in the bleak quiet of the library, her mind lost in a sea of thoughts. She had been living in this castle for over four months now and what did she have to show for it? A bunch of weird professors, only one real friend to speak of, and a slew of new faces, not to mention a huge feeling of homesickness. It had to be the holiday that was messing her up like this. It was the first time she would not be spending Christmas with her family. That explained her homesickness, but it did nothing to lighten her mood so she decided to continue pondering her rather short list of friends. Hermione Granger, walking encyclopedia of magic, very pretty, and a prefect. Then came Neville Longbottom, a rather gangly teen of average height with an eye for art, especially if it involved flora or fauna. Ginny Weasley, girlfriend to Neville and very spirited, she always had something tidbit of information or gossip to impart on anyone who listened, most often Neville, but he wasn't complaining. James Harrison, she didn't know what to think of him. Sure he was cute, sweet, intelligent, mysterious, and… but what does that mean? Could she actually be falling for him? No, she hated men and that was that. An oath she had sworn all those years ago, after the betrayal. But in the back of her mind, that traitorous little region that always had something to say, a little voice spoke, 'But he's different.' Yes, he was different than other men, but that does not change who or what he is. As much as she hated to admit it, she could not fully trust him, even after all he had done for her. No matter how hard she tried, she could not open up to him. 'Damn it,' she thought absently as the fog of the past began to spin around her. She was remembering again, but at least this time she could control it. She could smell the bitter stench of old cars and cigarettes. Palm trees sprouted all around her and Miami's skyscrapers made an appearance. Her neighborhood was just about to manifest when a voice interrupted her.

"Kristin, you in here?" It was James. Looking over she saw him kneeling against the door, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold. How long had he been looking for her? Before she could settle on what to do, his eyes locked with hers and he smiled. Something happened to her throat when he did that she could not identify. It seemed to constrict for a moment before reopening to allow for her to catch a breath. In order to mask her momentary lapse of control she shot a smile of her own before meeting him halfway.

"Hi James, what's up," she asked casually.

"Nothing, just got boring in the common room so I went looking for something to do and I found you. What are you doing cooped up here on Christmas Eve anyway? Not even Hermione does that!" A giggle escaped Kristin lips as she imagined the dedicated Gryffindor surrounded by books with a piece of mistletoe over her head. But her mind came back to the question and how she was going to answer. She chose to give an honest lie.

"I was just thinking about home and how strange it feels to be so far away from it."

"I know what you mean. How about this: let's spend the day together so that way neither of us can be alone." The American was shocked. He had seen right past the white lie and sensed the truth.

"Fine, whatever," she answered, masking her surprise with indifference. "What do you want to do?" A strange smile appeared on his face.

"Well, there is somewhere we could go, even if it is a little out of the way. You interested?" At her apathetic nod, he began leading her down the hallways of the school. They were crowded with people who ignored them, many preferring to sulk and sigh at having to stay at school for Christmas. Still James continued walking. In an effort to break the silence, Kristin said the first thing that came to mind.

"Hey, do you think you could fix my CD player?"

"What's wrong with it," the teen asked without stopping.

"Well, it hasn't worked since I arrived here and I don't know how to make it play anything but static." To her surprise James smiled.

"It's just the magic messing up the electronic components inside the CD player. You won't be able to use it inside the school. But," he trailed off while flicking his wrist. With a whoosh the contraption appeared in his hand. "I think it might work where we're going." The halls disappeared as the teen led the way onto the snow-covered field. The snowstorms that plagued the school had mellowed, allowing the sky to be viewed, revealing the crisp shine of the stars. Black above and white beneath with utter beauty in the center. It seemed so magical that she almost felt like she had walked into a dream. Even the forest seemed less menacing than usual. Finally James stopped, announcing that they had arrived. Kristin looked around and saw nothing except that they were far from the school. To her left a few yards off she recognized the silhouette of the Whomping Willow. No sound penetrated the serenity of the field. Snowflakes fell slowly, each unique design dancing in the wind. She looked over at her friend. He stood with his feet together and his arms held loosely at his side. He held his face turned up to the sky with eyes closed. She followed the angle of his face and the biggest full moon she had ever seen greeted her. It took her breath away as the stars seemed to twinkle brighter around the sphere as if chattering among themselves.

"Beautiful." The word escaped her lips and she did not even notice. James however, smiled broadly. Maybe it would be a good Christmas after all.

"Here," he said, throwing the CD player at her. "Try it now." Obediently she turned it on. Amy Lee's question of confusion and longing never seemed more welcome, or strangely appropriate. The music gripped her then, forcing its profound meaning into her heart. It flowed into her with each twang of the guitar and all the beats of the drums. As it pounded into her, she opened her eyes. The world itself had changed. The stars were smiling at her, each dot dazzling in its clarity and intensity. Suddenly a fierce wind circled her, making the dance of snowflakes rise in tempo round her before releasing her. Her eyes reached James and stayed there. His black cloak swayed in the sky in time to his hair but not once did it obscure her view of his face. He stood there, the bandanna and soft blue pendant accentuating his features. Emerald-green orbs, deep and bottomless, locked with hers. 'Wait a minute, green?' She stared harder and saw they were in fact blue. 'I could have sworn I saw green…' Deciding not to think about it, she sat on the snow and listened to the rest of the song.

Harry stared at his companion. That's really all it could be called: staring, with maybe a little drooling. Kristin sat on the grass with her legs spread out and arms propped behind her so as to hold her up, effectively curling her body alluringly to the sky. Who knew that jeans and a wool jacket could look so damn good, so enticing, inviting? Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. Heat had risen into his cheeks, leaving him feeling breathless. 'Get a hold of yourself man,' he thought to himself. 'It's Christmas Eve for God's sake!' Taking deep breaths that made his lungs freeze over, he finally composed himself enough to sit. Peaceful silence reigned for a while, the soft undertones of the wind and CD player forming a soft, almost sad melody. Finally the disc ended, releasing Kristen from its grip. During the time she had been listening to her music she had subconsciously leaned to the side, resting her head on James shoulder. As for Harry, he was so caught up in the unnatural melody to even notice, even though his cheek also came to rest on her head. But Amy Lee no longer sang, and the two found themselves in what both thought to be a _very_ awkward position. In their haste to separate Kristen's head smacked James on the chin, causing the teen to fall back on the snow. The Floridian waited for the teen to get up, but he remained unmoving.

"Come on, James, stop messing around," she said, her casual tone masking the growing concern. Inwardly Harry smiled, deciding to have some fun, as long as it kept his mind from falling into the gutter again. "Quit fucking around and get up man!" The worry edged her words as she unconsciously leaned over his body to get a closer look at his face. Suddenly, his arms shot up and he tackled the violet-eyed teen to the grass. A small yelp of surprise escaped her lips before it was promptly filled with snow as well as the inside of her jacket. The cold jarred her as James laughed.

"Oh man, that was great. You should have seen your face," he said with a bright smile. Kristen growled as she realized how gullible she had been, and revenge screamed to be exacted. Using all her strength she managed to reverse position and James found himself on the receiving end of his own joke. Still caught up in laughter, the shift only made him laugh harder. No longer angry, the Floridian could only think of how to make him stop laughing. James used the relaxing of her muscles and flipped places once again. Back and forth they wrestled, snow accumulated around them and their laughter ringing across the sky. Finally the two collapsed, Kristen looking up into the eyes of her best friend. The silence deepened as their faces came closer and closer together. Even as she felt his breath on her lips, she thought desperately, 'Please stop, don't. I'm not ready for this, not yet, please don't. No, don't kiss me!' Just as their lips brushed the boy pulled away. He was about to close his eyes and kiss her but had caught the desperation and fear in her eyes. It sent a sharp jolt of pain through him that he did not recognize but it was enough to break the momentum and he sat up. Kristen felt immense relief grip her when he pulled away. Her body had been willing, oh so willing to feel those lips, but her mind just could not handle it right now. She could no longer deny that James Harrison was unique, but did she really like him, love him? What about him? Was he just caught up in the moment, or did he also have feelings for her? In her confusion she looked over at him and felt it fly away from her. He had his eyes turned away from her; nevertheless she had still managed to get a glimpse. It had been filled with pain and she realized that he must've misinterpreted the desperation she had tried to convey.

Harry was at a loss. The moment had seemed perfect. And then he saw the fear and it all came crashing down. A bitter smile flashed by his lips. 'Just when I was starting to accept what I had been feeling…' Now he was left with an agonizing feeling he could not name or fight. It ravaged his innards, making everything feel cold and distant, like he was trapped in a weightless void. There was no magic, no romanticism, nothing. Just then, he felt something warm wrap around his waist. Reality crashed back into place as he felt Kristen's arms embrace her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and he instantly forgave her, returning the embrace with all his strength. "You kind of caught me off-guard so I didn't know how to respond."

"It's alright," he said, relishing the feel of this girl, feeling her warmth and friendship. It would be enough, for now. As for her, she just snuggled closer to him. It was still unclear whether there were feelings of any kind toward him, but she already knew he was trustworthy. He had just proved it to her in stopping the kiss, and for that she felt their bond tighten. As they sat on the snow with arms intertwined, an old question resurfaced from her memory.

Where do you want to be?

"Merry Christmas James."

"Merry Christmas Kristen."

Her response had been Greece that time. However, if she were asked that same question again, she might have said something different. 'In your arms, that's where I want to be right now, in your arms.'


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer**: Honestly, if it was mine, would i even be writing this? Dense...

**A/N**: Writer's Block, that's all i have to say. Enjoy

**Chapter Eight: Humility and The Blossoms of Spring**

The Riddle mansion stands on its plot of land maliciously, a black blot on the night sky. The cemetery behind it teems with the spirits of Riddles long gone from this world. Out of the many tombstones crept the figures. Like dementors the Death Eaters glided among the graves, forming a circle as they waited for their leader to appear. Rumors abounded on whether he had truly regained his original form. Others were that a new student at Hogwarts was stirring things up and might have to be dealt with. All the voices ceased upon the entrance of the Dark Lord in all his former glory. The powerful and evil face with slits for a nose and snake eyes drilled holes into the Death Eaters.

"Welcome my faithful followers," he said in his serpentine voice. "You have all proven to be the closest to my heart. You and your families that serve me elsewhere are to prepare for war." The group exploded with murmurs and whisperings. "Now that I have returned to my original form, it is time for me to take back this world that rightfully belongs to me! Our first target is the accursed Hogwarts!" Cheers resounded among the tombstones, so that any passing Muggle, fearing the wrath of the risen dead, ran home to the sanctity of their home.

Classes continued after Christmas as usual, with the New Year celebrated in true Hogwarts fashion: fireworks display, endless butterbeer, and the modified countdown led by Peeves the Poltergeist who naturally counted to five before restarting at ten. Fortunately, the more seasoned students announced the real countdown even as Peeves threw peanuts at them. The entire school welcomed the New Year enthusiastically. After a week of partying and recovering, school promptly started up again. Ron, wound up tight with suspicion over his girlfriend (courtesy of Kristin), finally caught her about to sneak off with a Ravenclaw who seemed overly fond of his Muscle Charms. The shock humbled him considerably, but it wasn't until the Quidditch Final that the Weasley finally turned around. Dennis Creevey, the camera-toting first year Harry had met so long ago, was Gryffindor's Seeker and pretty good too. Still the most naïve and gullible little snot Harry had ever met, though. Well, the day before the final match against Slytherin for the Cup he had managed to ensnare him in a trap and hid the fourth-year in a spare closet on the third floor enchanted with a Sleep Hex. So, obviously, the Final was about to get underway with no Seeker in sight. Poor Ron was beside himself with anger and panic. Taking the opportunity, Harry stepped forward and offered his services. Many of the Gryffindors in the stands cheered but the team had not forgotten the embarrassment, which still stung when they thought about it. The decision stood then in the hands of the captain. Either forfeit the game to Slytherin, or put the smartass in as a Seeker. Seconds ticked by and James was ordered to suit up. The game got underway, with Harry scanning the field for the Snitch. It appeared over by a Slytherin stand, its gold wings propelling it in seconds around the seats as the crowd watched the game, oblivious. Malfoy and his bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle took control of the Quaffle and flew with it, the swinging clubs an effective shield that broke through the gold robes. The same impenetrable pattern brought a large lead to the green robes as Ron tried desperately to take possession. The score stood at 130 to 0 before Harry decided to step in, having been flying around observing. The Gryffindor stands watched Harrison revert to a blur of gold and red and dive-bomb into the green formation. The force of the dive broke it apart and James held the Quaffle in his hands. Speechless, the crowd gaped awestruck as the last minute replacement scored a goal. Then a tumultuous cheer rocked the stadium. The gold team beheld the reaction and just went with it. The resentment could be saved for later; right now they had a game to win.

Slytherin took possession, the Quaffle flying between the three Chasers as they moved to their goal. The Gryffindors, with Ron and James directing them, split into two groups and formed a wall in front of the goal. Malfoy reacted by immediately calling the Beaters to disperse the defense. Just as the burly oafs were about to reach the wall, Bludgers appeared from the sides and collided with their heads. Thanks to years of refining their hard heads, the balls just disoriented them. It was all the lions needed. A whistle sounded and the ranks split in half. James shot through the gap at full speed toward Malfoy. The stone-faced captain flinched and dropped the Quaffle, which was picked up and taken to the other side for a Gryffindor goal. For some time the tides turned but Slytherin finally wised up to the Gryffindor tactics and fought back. The sun set on the ongoing game with the score 400 to 410 with lions in the lead. None of the stands were empty; there was no way anyone was leaving until the Cup winner was decided. Replacements on both sides kept the strategies changing and unpredictable. However, Ron and Harry as well as Draco and pals remained the whole time, none refusing to back down. Due to scuffles while trying to take the Quaffle, cuts and bruises decorated their faces and arms. The Snitch had been completely forgotten in the wake of their anger, Harry for his loss and Ron for his hatred toward the Slytherin. Many of the professors could not remember a more exciting game. The score rose to 450 even and Harry saw the Golden Snitch fly by his very face. The glimpse jarred him to reality and he went after it, but Malfoy had seen it as well. Knowing he could not compete with a Firebolt, he hatched a plan to get the bastard out of the way. One nod to both Crabbe and Goyle made the Beaters send the Bludgers storming toward James. James noticed one second too late and pulled back on his handle. The nose pulled back, narrowly avoiding the flying projectiles, but Crabbe and Goyle were right behind. The clubs connected with a loud thwack and James was knocked off his broom from over six hundred meters in the air. He plummeted to the ground as the other Gryffindors watched in horror.

Kristen sat riveted from the grace James exuded on his broom, his skill and power unparalleled. But when he was thrown into the air, she could feel all breath leave her. Why did his fall seem so slow, like every second was made to lash her with agony? She wanted to scream, but paralysis stopped her from doing anything but watching. That didn't shield her from thought. 'Stop falling, get back up, don't! Someone help him! James!'

Harry thought fast, summoning the Firebolt underneath him as he slowed himself enough to grab the handle of the broom. Swinging a leg over the broom he rocketed in Malfoy's direction. Dear God he was so close to the Snitch! Concentrating all his euphoria and magick ability, Harry launched himself from the broom, speeding like a bullet toward the golden ball. Time slowed around the two as the crowd held its breath. Harry caught the Snitch right out of the Slytherin captain's grasp and fell to the floor. This fall was much shorter and he landed on the ground with a loud thud. Slowly, dramatically, he stood upright and presented the Snitch in his right hand.

The stadium erupted, the cheering rocking the stands and deafening anything with ears for miles around. Etiquette, decorum, and simple common sense were forsaken as the Gryffindor team rushed the winner. All that could be seen was a mass of arms and legs screaming and struggling to share the joy their owners were feeling. Harry watched from the side with an enormous smile, having easily evaded the dog pile. Also off to the side stood Ron, his eyes focused intently on the source of his humiliation and greatest victory. He always prided himself as the best flyer on the team, since he had to deal with the handicap of having a slow-as-hell broom that was older than he was, but then James came in and ripped all the pride away with his lightning-fast broom and godlike skills. On top of that, Parvati cheated on him with a muscle-bound _dupe_ from Ravenclaw! It was just a bad time for him, but… James never really did anything that bad, and he did win the Cup for them. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Once the decision was made, Ron joined his teammates in glorious and brainless rejoicing. James turned to his old friend and smiling offered his hand. Ron took it.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was above all the loudest Hogwarts had ever seen. Not one Lion slept, each finding room either by the Fat Lady or the fireplace chattering about the match. Hermione sat by the stairs having long since given up on sleeping. Instead she drank butterbeer and read her Dark Arts textbook. Ron sat on the sofa with the team, discussing all his moves as he contributed to the victory. It was clear that James had done most of the work, but embellishing a little never hurt anyone, right? As for the man of the hour, he was nowhere to be found. Kristen, who was still nursing her first butterbeer, noticed his absence almost immediately and decided to go looking for him. She chugged the rest of her butterbeer and left the common room.

Harry leaned against one of the many pillars that made the walkway connecting the North Tower with the rest of the castle, musing of what to do about the upcoming N.E.W.T. exams. He could pass them easy, but did he really want to become an Auror? So far they and the Ministry had done nothing to stop Voldemort. Indeed, it was as if they did not know he was back! Besides, he wasn't too willing to take orders without question just yet. It was a dilemma all right, a real problem. 'Being an Auror would put all my training to good use, but then there are the stories of Aurors ordered to destroy entire villages just to capture a few Death Eaters.' Whispers of corruption were common, so maybe he should steer away from them. If not a wizard soldier, then what else could he be? Professional Quidditch, scientist, entrepreneur, seer, or Ministry lackey, none of these appealed to him. Then there was of course the Muggle occupations, boring and dull as they may be. His thoughts were interrupted however by a sharp slap on his shoulder. By the way, while leaning on the pillar he was also balancing on the guardrail with a sheer drop of at least a hundred feet just waiting for him. So when the slap landed, it broke his stability and he involuntarily leaned over the chasm.

Kristen, in her annoyance at having to search almost the entire castle, did not really think it through when she slapped James on the shoulder. However, when she saw him tipping over the guardrail her heart leapt into her throat and she reached for him. Her hands closed on air as he fell. She was about to scream when she looked over the walkway to see him standing on the wall with a grin on his face.

"Gotcha," he said as he walked parallel to the ground back to safety. Once he was safely on solid and horizontal stone she punched him in the gut.

"Don't do that you idiot. What the hell are you doing out here anyway?" The mirth in his expression faded slowly and he turned away from her. Concern sprouted within her and she stood next to him, trying with peripheral vision to see his face and failing miserably. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I was just wondering about what to do after I get out of here."

"You mean as a job or something?"

"Yep."

"Man, you need to lighten up. A new religion has just formed you know."

"Oh," he inquired with raised eyebrows, taking the bait.

"It's called Harrisonism, and it's dedicated to the blind worship of your image. Every Gryffindor is officially a faithful disciple. You should go and give them an image of perfection." She was joking, obviously, but the idea of everyone in the common room bowing to a painting of him made him chuckle. But then the last sentence she had said registered.

"So you're saying I'm perfect," he asked with a knowing glance. Kristen did not catch on immediately, but once it sunk in the teenager blushed a deep red. God, who needed enemies with a mouth like hers? Thankfully, he just shrugged it off. "I don't feel like being surrounded by fans right now."

"Don't play modest with me, Harrison," she said in an effort to continue on this path of conversation. "You know damn well you enjoy the drooling."

"No, I don't. I hate it." It wasn't so much what he said, but how he said it that caught her attention. "All of them, each with their dime-store respect and idolatry towards you, they'll love you for a while. But when something goes wrong, whom do they point the finger at? They blame you, because it has to be connected somehow to you, because only you have the ability to move mountains or save worlds. All of which stemming from one event that holds no bearing or relevance to the new situation, but it's all they need. No matter what happens, the idol becomes a scourge, a source of disgrace." The words were spoken softly with hardly any emotion attached to them. It seemed almost as if he spoke of first-hand experience. It occurred to her then how little she knew of James. Sure they had been friends from their first meeting, but what of his life before it? What kind of life did he have that made him who he was?

"James, can I ask you something," she said timidly, since silence had descended after he had spoken. She knew that to ask would mean she ran the risk of having to tell as well, but she had to know.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I just realized that I know nothing about you. So it's time to 'fess up, buddy. Tell me something about your past." For a moment he did nothing before a soft sad smile appeared on his stoic features.

"Are you sure you want to know?" The question confused her, not to mention scared her a little, but she simply nodded. "All right, let me start at the very beginning. I was born July thirty-first of 1988 to a pure wizard and Muggle witch, making me a half-blood. Anyway, around the time before my first birthday, a group of Death Eaters, led by-"

"What are Death Eaters?"

"It's a title given to the servants of Lord Voldemort."

"I've never heard of that name." This time he chuckled, a hollow, distant sound.

"No, I don't suppose you would have. You see, Lord Voldemort was a very powerful Dark Wizard that appeared thirty years ago and wreaked havoc on the wizard community. His influence was so great, the fear associated with him so strong, that no one would even say his name, preferring to say 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' or 'You-Know-Who.' That was his greatest victory I think, but that's not the point. Back to my story, Voldemort led a group of his followers to my parent's home and murdered them. Immediately following the incident, he was defeated and forced into hiding."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she said, regretting her persistence and cursing her curiosity. He just smiled that same smile and continued.

"It's in the past. After their death I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle, who were pure Muggles. They of course knew of my lineage, but refused to condone or accept it and seemed determined to let me know on a daily basis just how much they disliked me. Ten years I spent in their private, sterile Hell until relief came in the form of Hagrid."

"You mean the Care for Magical Creatures professor?"

"That's the one. Apparently Dumbledore, the old Headmaster, had been sending letters to me inquiring as to whether I would like to come to school in September, but dear old aunt and uncle had been intercepting the letters. Needless to say, I jumped at the opportunity to learn more about my past. I came to Hogwarts for my first and second years, and it was paradise, a veritable Eden for me. But all good things come to an end."

"What do you mean," she murmured, enthralled by his tale.

"When school let out for the summer I would return to my aunt and uncle's house to wait out the interval. However, the summer after second year I was once again visited by a group of Death Eaters, minus a Dark Lord. They murdered my remaining family and burned the house to the ground."

"But how did you survive?"

"I ran away from the carnage, torn between conflicting emotions. On one hand I mourned the loss of kin and vowed revenge, but then I remembered how savagely they treated me, how heartlessly they tossed me aside in favor of their obese son, showering him with gifts he did not appreciate. With those memories, I was… glad, so very relieved that they were dead, away from me. God, I was never as afraid of myself as I had been that day." He shuddered involuntarily at the memory. It had been right after his first night in the cave. His anger had faded with the adrenaline and all he could do was sit and remember all the things those people had done to him, and for one horrible moment he cheered their demise before his morality came down on him. He never visited their graves, nor did he recall the day save as the end of his old life. Kristen could see him turning into himself, shutting off the world. Thinking quickly she cupped his cheek with her hand. James jumped slightly before turning to look at her.

"I'm sorry for making you relive that," she said as the heat burned her face. His smile then was brilliant.

"It's okay. Come on chic, let's go join the flock of my faithful," he said with a smirk and led the way to the common room. The chattering could be heard from outside the entrance.

"Oh hello dearie," the Fat Lady said in a drunken slur. Her hair was wild and cheeks red with the wine. "Come on in, they're waiting for you." Without warning she swung open, nearly knocking the two against the wall. "Oi listen up you blokes. The one, the only James Harrison has arrived," the woman cried. For a second the Gryffindors looked like a painting of a feast but they soon grabbed him and thrust him into the center of the chaos, leaving Kristen breathless at the entrance. The questions came in from all sides, lashing his skin with desperate adulation. Air became scarce and heavy. Harry closed his eyes and with his most commanding voice he spoke.

"Shut up."

The group silenced immediately and looked hungrily at him. He merely glared back. "So we won the Quidditch Cup." The cheers rocked the dust from the ceiling. "But do you know why? It wasn't because of our superior team, or the fact that I have a Firebolt, or even that I participated. Ronald Weasley, the captain, was faced at the beginning of the game with the choice of forfeiting the match or taking me on as replacement. Now, the team won't admit it, but I totally kicked their broom tails up and down the field long ago, and I suspect I made enemies of them. They had no reason to take me on, but Ron looked past that and made the best decision. He is the true hero of the match. So don't cheer for me. Go ask him how it went." Obeying without question, the river changed sides and flowed to Ron who stood proudly in front of his team members. James gave him the thumbs-up before heading to the dormitory.

"Nice job with the mob, Harrison," he heard Hermione say from behind a large textbook. Placing it on her lap, she gave him a huge smile. From the entrance Kristen saw the twinkling grin and felt molten lava pulse in her veins. "But don't try going to sleep. No amount of Silencing Charms could block out _this_ party." He smiled but did not reply. Kristen saw _that_ smile as well as ice replaced the lava. A pain she could not identify assaulted her, burning, scratching, seething, and razing the surface of her heart. She could not stay there in the common room watching that bushy-haired bitch. Sadness juxtaposed her anger at having thought such things about a fellow student and friend. Overcome with emotion, the violet-eyed American left the feast for her own introspection.

God, his smile was so perfect! Hermione could not discern when the shift had occurred, but somehow she found herself thinking more about James. She knew she should feel guilty for betraying Harry, but there was nothing. Almost as if… but that couldn't possibly be it, would it? _Could_ it?

Harry made it to the window whilst debating on what to do. Hermione was right of course; there was very little chance of him getting a good night's sleep now. So… might as well occupy the time some other way. Summoning his sword to his side he wrapped the strap around his waist and leapt out the window to train.

Kristen wandered aimlessly through the halls, dwelling on her reaction to what she had seen. Why had she gotten so angry? 'It was just James after all. No reason to get so bent out of shape.' Her thoughts were interrupted by the night air's caress. She took the time to look up. She couldn't get enough of the stars. After all, back in Miami the only ones you could really see were those belonging to Orion, and it gets boring after awhile. Here in the untainted air of Hogwarts they appeared in infinite patterns, each one as unique as a fingerprint. They were constant and stayed with her until the sun chased them away, but she found comfort in the fact that they would return that night, as with every night before. The constancy, the intuition was something she could not find in Miami, where it was a constant war of secrecy and double lives. During the week with daylight she was Kristen Myers, a high school junior, one of thousands on her campus, with a sharp tongue and sharper mind. But when the sun traveled to the other side of the world, she ditched the schoolbooks and responsibilities to join the Sisterhood, the coven that had embraced her growing abilities and, under the tutelage of Madam Rosetta, taught her to use them. The greatest challenge lay not in the astronomical amount of work she struggled with from both side, but in the effort to keep the two lives apart. It went without saying that she failed miserably in that aspect. Thankfully, the students and faculty simply wrote her off as weird and left it at that. Her parents however, when they found out why the reason their daughter always had somewhere to go weekend nights and never held a job, were furious. Her father refused to believe a word Kristen said in her defense, and her mother merely stood at his side, her noncommittal expression a harsher blow than his words. "Police" and "Military School" were words frequently issued from his lips that were slowly reddening until they seemed purple with rage. She had not been surprised by his reaction, he _was_ a man after all, but the idea of being sent off to some boot camp full of coked up bitches with names like Molly and Big Jane did not seem remotely appealing. She left them to their spat and went to her room, mind full of ideas for escape. Needless to say she was shocked to find a huge owl on her bed, its saucer-shaped eyes boring into hers before tapping its claw on a letter. Preferring not to dwell on the fact that there was an owl sitting on her bed, the teen reached for the letter and opened it to reveal the answer to all her problems. With some clever wordplay on her behalf they readily shipped her off to England to "the most intense training a delinquent can imagine in their darkest nightmares." Still, as she sat in the waiting lobby for the boarding to begin, she found it difficult to detach from her parent's embrace, and they seemed just as reluctant. Finally, the stewardess began the call and she tore away, hastily wiping her eyes of any evidence of tears she _had not_ been shedding. The flight was long and boring, and the depression of having no one to meet her at the end felt unbearable. But upon arriving in Europe she found an owl much like the one that had been in her room perched above a street sign, its eyes willing her to it. With closer inspection came a rolled-up map, directions to Diagon Alley, and a gold key with an ornate cursive G stamped on it. With map in hand finding Diagon Alley was easy, but it took a big chunk of the day just figuring out what the damn key was _for_, followed by a mad scramble to get everything she needed. The moon was high in the sky when she finally settled into her room at the local inn, robes and books scattered everywhere. Tired beyond endurance, the American fell on the mattress, twirling her new wand like a baton. That was something she never understood nor gotten used to: the use of wands at Hogwarts. Madam Rosetta had taught them to channel the magical energies in her body through the hands and all the necessary chants to make the power bend to her will. Now she was reduced to spinning an enchanted stick and mumbling one-word spells. 'Still… it's better than military school,' she thought as sleep finally shut down her fatigued body that day. The next day brought with it new problems as she ran up and down the London Terminal like a headless chicken searching for the goddamn platform.

Then James came along and swept her off her feet.

Wait a minute…

That wasn't how it happened! Was it?

Yes, that's exactly how it happened.

But what could she do about it? James was in a league of his own. Although he hardly ever showed it, she could see a large amount of power radiating from him. It reminded her of Madam Rosetta who could split a boulder in two with just a flick of her pinkie. He could do more though, _that_ she could sense instinctively. At once charming and funny, there weren't many who could hold a grudge against him, unless of course they feel threatened by his energy. Still, there was a deep emotion always hiding beneath the surface of that smile and wiseass attitude. He seemed to hold a secret; something enormous that burdened his heart. The incident with the thestrals came to mind. He had seen things, many things that she could only imagine, not to mention the death of his entire family! Her mind halted then and she realized just how much she had studied this man, for he was no boy. Was this love, to see a person and to know them and accept their pasts? She didn't hate him, not after all he had done for her. 'But… he's a male,' that same voice argued bitterly. 'Males cannot be trusted!' But why can't I trust him? He would never do anything like that! He isn't a liar! The voice died away in the face of her conviction and she knew what to do now. Setting her chin firmly in place, she headed out for the lake.

Harry took deep breaths to enhance his concentration, sword held diagonally over his right shoulder. 'One… two… three,' he counted down before swinging. The sideways arch moved fluidly into a spin and upward slash. The attack continued as the wind whistled in his ear, the blade flitting in the light of the moon. Even as his fluid movements sliced the wind and made the grass tremble, his mind was churning. After the Quidditch Final there was the Spring Ball, a new addition to the school since his time, and every student was expected to attend. But attending it meant going with dates, as in people of the opposite sex with which one was to dance and spend an all-around romantic evening with. Yes, it was a problem. He already knew whom he wanted to go with, but did she feel the same? Worse, did she want to go with someone else? A sinking sensation made all his vital organs drop to the floor at the idea of her dancing with anyone other than him. His swings jerked suddenly and in an unconscious move he brought the blade down like an axe, effectively splitting the earth with a violent explosion of dust and grass. He couldn't do this; he had to work up the nerve to ask, despite the risk. Before he could plan his approach, however, he heard the hissing of air and he unconsciously grabbed the moving arm, twisting it around until the owner stood with her arm behind her back. Wait…_her_? Letting go he noticed then it was Kristen. The moment he did she turned and swung, catching him on the chin.

"You bastard," he heard her say. "I come here looking for your sorry ass, and you go all gung-ho commando on me! I don't even know why I bother! Fucking-ay dude, you scared the shit out of me with that stunt." He smiled at her colorful language and rubbed his chin gingerly. Not even a bruise.

"Sorry about that chic, you just caught me off-guard. I don't get many visitors when I'm out here. Speaking of which…" he trailed off leadingly and was rather surprised to see her blush. But it was fleeting as the tough girl came out to play.

"I don't know, I don't think an apology is going to fix this little slip-up of yours," she said with an evil grin that he returned quickly, unfazed.

"Well then, how do you propose I go about seeking repentance then, O Merciful Queen," he said in a regal tone complete with a bow and sweeping hand movements. The title made her blush fleetingly but she charged forward, hoping against hope that she wouldn't be too scarred.

"Um, well, how about this? I forgive this transgression only if you take me to the Spring Ball." Harry almost fell back in shock, although his face retained that same grin. The possibilities of such a situation made his mind run wild and for a split second he hesitated. Kristen saw this and felt the earth fall away beneath her feet. 'Of course, what was I thinking?'

"Yeah, I think I can endure that," she heard a voice say, the words echoing as if in a long dark tunnel. His face came into focus and she could see the grin. She couldn't help but smile. Then, while still smiling, she swung at his face again. James easily caught it, her fist enclosed in his hand.

"So, I heard you need a sparring partner," she said flippantly.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"A little bird told me." James smiled before twirling her and using her own arm to pin her against him. Not a second past before Kristen dug her elbow into his gut and flipped him over her head. A laugh issued from the kicked-up dust before he stood and rushed her. She froze at his sudden speed but felt no pain when he threw her to the ground. Reeling from the unexpected shift in balance she could only stare as he spoke.

"Yeah, I'll teach you a few things. You don't need to ask." He said and a hand materialized from thin air to help her up. The beast of pride reared its head and she roughly stood up. 'Why that arrogant son of a- I'll teach him a thing or two,' she thought angrily before falling into her karate stance. In all honesty she had only gone up to her green belt, but that should be enough right? The rest of the night heard only grunts and the slap of bone against bone.

They screamed, her muscles literally cried their anguish in her ears as she sat in History of Magic. It seemed she had deeply underestimated James, but he _had_ taught her move or two. 'And he's going with me to the ball.' The very idea of being in his arms, swaying gently to low music with her head on his shoulder made her blush to the roots of her hair. Suddenly Friday seemed like much less than two days away and the thought of what to wear filled her mind, pushing out all other thoughts (not like she had much else to think of otherwise, this was History of Magic after all). Her wardrobe manifested itself before her, each shirt, skirt, and dress rolling slowly by her line of sight. All the combinations were studied and broken down before being rejected. Nearing the end, she sought out anything and everything. It was the last dress, as usual. The lavender chiton from Greece now seemed perfect.

Harry sat in his usual place at the center of the class in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had his face in the _Daily Prophet_ as per usual while the class practiced all their spells for the upcoming N.E.W.T practical exam. At least that was the assignment. Many of the students were confident in their abilities and so they divided into their respective cliques to gossip and talk. Ron and Hermione were in their usual places, but after the Quidditch Final the two had made great leaps and strides forward to fix their friendship and he knew it was his influence that did it. Although the three of them still didn't hang together like before, at least they were speaking to each other. There was a lot of tension and mixed words to go through and with Harry hiding his identity it was even harder. They just didn't trust him enough yet. But never mind that, his mind was burdened with other thoughts at the moment, like what he would wear and how he was going to get over this enormous feeling of nervousness come Friday.

"Right then," the voice of Professor Lupin said from behind the newspaper. "It's time for your practice test." The students all grumbled back to their seats and took out their wands.

The rest of the week was uneventful as the entire school waited anxiously for Friday. It finally arrived and Kristen was beside herself with panic. Everything felt strange. The announcement that the Ball was to begin at four in the afternoon didn't help things at all. She was so used to dances being at night, and she knew it shouldn't have mattered, but it did. Who starts a party in the afternoon, a dance even? By the time it gets around to ten, everyone would be tired! It never dawned on her that that was exactly why the Houses chose the time they did, for with later hours came the prospect and possibility to do "things". Better to avoid that completely. Her hands trembled as she placed the pin of her dress, despairing over the realization that not even the pleasure of silk could soothe her fried nerves. Harry wasn't doing any better in his dormitory. Ron and the others teasing him about his chiton didn't help matters either, and it forced him out into the dormitory. 'It won't be long now,' he thought as he stood by the fireplace, watching the low flames dance as he waited. It was almost time for Kristen to come down anyway. Just as he was about to lapse into another of his many memories, he heard someone coming down the stairs. Turning to receive whomever it was, he felt the wind leave his body in one short gasp.

Kristen almost missed the last step when she beheld James standing by the fire, shadows playing over his skin and chiton. He stood like a god before her, and she could feel her defenses melting before his influence. So with a glowing smile, she took the last step and stood before her date. Each looked into the other's eyes, trying to say everything without speaking anything, engorged nothingness. Finally James bowed deeply and offered his arm to her, which she took with a light chuckle. The two left the common room for the Ball.

The Great Hall was of course the location being the only room in the castle capable of housing all the students and tables. The ceiling, which normally displayed with great accuracy the outside sky now held the illusion of pink petals among twinkling stars and of streaks of light that could only be recognized as comets. The long stiff tables were replaced with circular and more ornate affairs with pearl-white sheets draped over them and at the very center a bouquet of the reddest roses Kristen had ever seen. Soft classical music played from the band in the corner near where the faculty table stood and the wondrous voices of a female quartet singing opera filled the newcomers with an undeniable feeling of warmth. Next to the great doors on both sides floated the ghosts, greeting the couples as they entered. Peeves was nowhere to be seen, the work of Professor Lupin who had managed to trap the poltergeist in an Unbreakable Box and magically soundproofing it. It rumbled and hopped under his chair. One of the ghosts, a thin and balding creature in a tattered gray tuxedo with coattails, floated just above the entrance and spoke. His voice boomed and cut through the rest of the music and conversation easily.

"MAY I PRESENT JAMES HARRISON AND KRISTIN MYERS!" She could feel her cheeks burn from the proverbial spotlight but was glad to see only a few people turned to look. Looking uncertainly over at James, she was relieved to see him turn and shrug at her.

"Shall we then," has asked while gently pulling her forward. Without a word she let him lead her to a table near the dance floor that lay bare save for a few unembarrassed couples that swayed to the intensely romantic melody. The rest of those attending had situated themselves at their tables awaiting the promised dinner and butterbeer before trying anything as remotely scandalous as dancing. The two sat and with a wave of his hand the six other empty chairs disappeared. Left to their own devices the two lapsed into conversation, laughing and chatting like the friends they were, complimenting the kitchen elves by tapping their feet three times, and commenting on every dress that walked by. It was only when the more sprightly (to quote the Headmistress) music began playing that the awkwardness set in, because Kristen wanted to dance, had daydreamed about it for the better part of a week, but she didn't have the slightest clue how to approach. Harry fared no better, and so they were at a standoff. That is, until some seventh-year that Harry recognized to be a member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team asked for a dance that he finally manned up.

"Sorry, but she's with me," he said, sliding between them and whisking the American to the dance floor. Doing his very best to ignore the feeling of her hand in his, he placed his other hand on her waist and they danced. Now while Kristen may have been considered weird by a large portion of her high school population, that did not deter her from regularly attending dances and parties where she shook her rump with the best of them. Of course she usually danced alone, due of course to her misogynist outlook, but that only made her more alluring, allowing her to develop a style all her own. Now she struggled with the warmth that radiated from his touch, an almost euphoric feeling overtaking her as the two swayed among the emboldened students. He really was good at this, his hand guiding her left and right with ease, the silk of their chitons barely skimming the clothes of the other dancers. An intense urge started formulating in her mind, and before she could even begin to protest her body complied and placed her head on his shoulder. Their swaying slowed to dragging steps in half-circles. The thought of other people inhabiting this little slice of the world did not cross their minds at all, and the mist emerging from Professors Flitwick and Trelawney's wands only served to heightened the effect. His arms dragged to the small of her back, transferring all the warmth into that region, making a delicious numbing effect racing down her legs. In an effort to hold her body upright she clasped her hands at the back of his neck, causing the same feeling to draw slowly down his spine. In this position she could do nothing else but stare up at his face. The flames of the opulent candles floating overhead amongst the night sky made his profile brighten and fade, leaving his eyes as the only constant on his visage. She was drowning, falling headfirst into those swirling seas of green. So lost in their intense feelings, neither noticed that the illusion had faded away. There was no warning, no slow inching toward each other, one moment they were staring, the next their lips had met. The kiss could've leveled entire cities, decimated islands, and it burned itself into her soul. Without speaking, they made their way out of the Great Hall, ignoring the looks and low murmurs until they reached an empty hallway. Panting for more than one reason, they stood in the quiet. Kristen felt the conflict within her mind, voices screaming at each other even as she kept her eyes locked with his.

'He'll hurt you!'

'No he won't!'

'Damn it, you don't know what he's capable of!'

'Yes I do, he's my best friend! He would tell me anything!'

'HE'S A MALE!'

'I DON'T CARE!' As if to prove it, she launched herself at James, pushing him up against the wall with the force of the kiss. James, to his credit, accepted the gesture in silence and reciprocating as well he could with her tongue worming its way around the inner confines of his mouth. It was only when they heard steps coming from the other end of the hall that they finally pulled away. The source of the noise turned out to be one of the other ghosts waddling his way while talking to himself loudly. Waiting patiently for the apparition to pass through, and used that time to recompose themselves. Once they stood alone again, James opened up the impending conversation.

"So," he started, drawing out the O longer than necessary. "What happens now?"

"I don't know, this isn't something I usually do," she said honestly, looking at a crack in the wall above him, vaguely recognizing the striking blue of his eyes with her peripheral vision. Because of this, she did not see the small smile flit across his face.

"No chance of sealing the deal then?" She looked at him then and saw the same devilish grin she had grown accustomed to in the time she had spent with him. She chuckled then, feeling her lungs fill almost as if she had been holding her breath the entire time.

"Not on the first date, stud," she said, reaching up for a chaste second-long kiss before locking eyes with him again.

"Understandable, so how's Saturday for Date Number Two then," he asked, the grin, if possible, inching wider. Despite what they had been doing not two minutes ago, she still felt her cheeks burn before shyly nodding her agreement. The rest of the night was spent walking outside on the grounds, finally coaxing the Whomping Willow into letting them lie on its branches. The two savored this newfound closeness, this hope of something wonderful. Neither of them could know of what awaited the next day, of the shadow that at the moment was mere miles from the school and that brought with it all the promises of Hell. At that moment it was just the two of them, and it was all they needed.

* * *

And there goes the next chapter! Again, sorry for the long wait and I'll do my best to get the rest done ASAP

Ja ne


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all affiliated characters are property of such and such author and as such can only be manipulated by that person. This spiel before you is just a figment of your imagination. Try to keep up.

**A/N:** Let's keep it going! On this post, things will happen! After that, OTHER things will happen! HAHA! Wait... you want to know what? Well you're just going to have to read, aren't you? Lazy...

**Chapter Nine: The Beginnings That Lie In The End**

Somehow he knew, felt it in the very fiber of his being that this day was going to be different. Harry could feel the powerful magicks that encompassed Castle Hogwarts waver and tremble, and he did not like the feeling at all. Yet he still dressed, still joined in with Dean as they teased poor Ron over his horrific date with the fabulous but spacey Ms. Lovegood, counting almost in song the number of times he had stepped on her foot. That done, he made his way down the steps and met up with Kristen, greeting her with a small kiss that did not go unnoticed by her roommates (although Hermione had already left to make her prefect rounds) before reaching the common room. In all the windows he could see the beautiful blue sky heralding an equally gorgeous day, and felt the dread in his chest intensify. Albus had died on a sunny day. Trying his best to put such unpleasant memories from his thoughts, he let his violet-eyed girlfriend lead him out into the hallways toward the Great Hall for a quick breakfast before classes. Unseen by the American, the Chosen One fingered Helga's necklace, his blade resting parallel on his lower back. 'Damn it all, please let me be wrong.'

Malfoy made his way through the dungeons with his usual crew following behind. They were almost here, and it made him smile evilly. 'It won't be long now. This school will finally be purged and purified,' he thought, even as he squeezed Rosaline's hand reassuringly. 'And as for that Harrison, I'll make sure he pays for his arrogance. I'll kill him myself!' Just as the Slytherins emerged on the main hallway leading to the Great Hall a large owl swooped in through one of the windows, a massive and horned creature that the boy immediately recognized as belonging to the Malfoy estate. Ripping open its package he found a single sentence written in the looping cursive of Lucius Malfoy.

_We shall be there very shortly._

It was in Defense class that the tremor came to him, stronger than ever before, as if the castle itself trembled with fear. Even then he willed his fears away, until his scar, that damn old bolt etched on his forehead, flared up as if in exasperation to the teenager's actions. There could be no doubt then, the time had come. Wasting no more time, Harry sat up straight and promptly spoke.

"Professor, may I use the restroom?" A simple question, and were it anyone else Remus most likely would've ignored it. That being said, he brought his newspaper down just enough to see over it at the inquisitor.

"Can it wait, Mr. Harrison," he said with a slight smirk, only to have it erase from his face when the boy, whom he knew by another alias (the Headmistress had recently revealed the particulars to him), mouthed a name that made his blood run cold. For one everlasting second Lupin froze, the next he had dropped the paper lower and nodded slowly, searching the eyes for any lies and feeling a shudder of terror rake his spine upon finding none. Springing up from his seat, Harry rushed out of the door, not caring about the soft murmurs about his odd behavior. He didn't dare stop running until he reached the gargoyle that led to the Headmistress' office.

"Let me through," he said, his voice even and laced with venom. The stature merely looked bored.

"Password?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking you to let me through instead!" Now the beast sneered.

"No password, no entry." Without any outward indication, Harry's palm slapped against the stone and blew it apart, effectively silencing the misguided guardian. Racing up the stairs, he knocks on the oak door before ripping it open.

"Mr. Potter," came the voice of the headmistress as she stood from her desk. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Professor, they're coming," he said, wrenching a gasp from the older woman and she seemed to swoon. "I felt my scar burn and the protective magicks around the castle have been bothering me all day."

"Too soon, it's still too soon, we're not ready…" Her eyes were glazed over, filled with images of times ardently repressed.

"MINERVA! Now is not the time. I need you to stay focused," he said loudly. "First, contact the Heads of Houses and advise them of the situation. From there divide the other remaining members of the faculty among them and escort the students outside of the castle. Make sure they all stay together and for the love of God, keep this as quiet as possible. Now is not the time for a school-wide panic." For a moment the woman did not move, her eyes trained intently on him as another aspect of Godric's training was brought to bear. "Now Headmistress! There's no time!" After she was gone Harry turned to a small frame away from the ones of the former Headmasters. On it stood a man with a ruffled collar staring at him as he waited. "Go inform the Ministry of what is going on here. Tell them that Voldemort has resurfaced and is coming to destroy Hogwarts."

"Of course, it shall be done." As he turned to leave, Harry called out to him.

"Don't come back after delivering the message."

"Why?" For a single moment, all the age and experience of his life burned in the recesses of his eyes before they reverted to jade diamonds.

"There will be nothing to come back to." The figure nodded once before the frame was relieved of its charge. "The next order of business," spoke the teen while turning to face the row of Headmasters, "is turning over full control of all spells regarding the castle to me." Scandalized murmurs arose but Harry didn't pause. "This man is coming to destroy everything you have served and protected, including all those who defy him." There was no audible response to his request, but after a time Harry could feel the flow of the magicks permeating the five-hundred-year-old building shift and enter his body. Closing his eyes and focusing for a moment, he reached to the mantle that held a long forgotten sword, relic of a time of fragile innocence. Rotating it in wide circles to test its weight he slammed it into the floor. Grabbing the quill on McGonagall's table, he drew a large circle with two triangles and a square within it onto the thick mahogany. Slapping his palms on the symbol, blue lightning sparked and soared as a black sword sheath emerged from it. In one swift movement the sword was immersed in its new scabbard and strung vertically on the small of Harry's back, parallel to the ground. Now fully prepared for what was coming, the Chosen One walked to the window that faced the incoming source of energy and stood to wait for his destiny to appear.

It ate at her, the feeling of abnormality made her skin crawl. It started when she greeted James in the stairway of their dormitory, seeing the distant, glassy sheen in his eyes as they walked to the Great Hall, the way his body, usually so fluid and confident, moved in measured steps and seemed stiff as a board. She couldn't understand it, and as is true with anyone in a brand-new relationship, the blame for such a change in behavior seemed to somehow rest on her. Yet before she could mentally tear herself down, the door to her class opened. As was customary to the History class, everyone besides her sat in a near comatose state, so only she could take in the disheveled appearance of Remus Lupin and hear the chattering in the hallway. The strangeness grew until she felt herself stand. The beating of her heart drowned the words coming from the Dark Arts teacher out as she took in the fear that was building in his eyes. Without a second thought she took out her wand and made the tip fire off a blast like a gunshot. Once the other students were roused they were hustled out of the classroom into the hallway to join what appeared to be every living creature in the school. There was an undertone of panic among the ranks as they were herded out of the school. The professors and Heads of Houses were stone-faced, revealing nothing and just raising the subtle hysteria all the more. Kristen found herself seeking out James, but he was nowhere to be found. She would be unable to do anything else, since at that moment a loud scream rose from somewhere in the crowd. As if it were a signal, all the other people looked to the sky. Splitting through the center of the white fluffy clouds and scarring the sun were dozens of broomsticks flying toward them. Upon closer inspection Kristen could see that the riders all wore black robes and skull masks. Cackling could be heard from above, the volume increasing as they hovered above the lake.

"It's the Death Eaters!"

"We're doomed!" The frightened students tried to run only to be kept in place by the adults as they struggled to maintain control of their charges. Ron stood entranced at the sight of the beings he had unconsciously given "boogeyman" status as they floated out of reach. Elsewhere, Draco and his entourage swiftly broke past the blockade to stand before the broomstick he knew belonged to his father. Roxanne's hand tightened around his with fear and he turned to reassure her. Before he could, however, the voice of pure serpentine evil slithered to his ears, bringing a wide grin to his face.

"The legendary Hogwarts! I must say, the sight of this place brings to mind such memories," he spoke, his lips twisted into a thin half-smile. It vanished immediately as he spoke again. "I think I'll destroy it."

'And that's my cue,' thought Harry as he leapt from the tower window toward the closest broom. Using all of his speed he grabbed the Death Eater and whisked him into the air before hopping to the next one, onward and upward until, just moments after his first jump, Harry soared over the floating Voldemort with fifteen figures seemingly suspended in the air. Roaring at the top of his lungs, he unsheathed the newly acquired sword and slashed at the cause of his pain in one fluid motion, only to have it impact against a solid wall of nothing. The clanging of the contact echoed across the lake, silencing all. Having no broom to land on, Harry finally fell, using a Levitation spell to keep him on the surface of the lake before he back flipped onto solid ground. Students and Death Eaters alike watched in awed silence at this teenager that had just incapacitated fifteen Dark wizards like so much trash. Of course, that left around thirty still in the air with murder in their eyes, but it was very impressive nonetheless. The silence was broken yet again by a hissing cackle.

"Remarkable! I see that there's at least one student in this entire school with the will to live," sneered Voldemort as he gestured to his followers. As one, the Death Eaters descended until they floated just above the surface of the lake, trapping the group of students and professors between them and the walls of the castle. James stood his ground, eyes drilling holes into the dark wizards. "And who might you be?" For a moment there was silence. Then James reached for the bandanna on his forehead and pulled it off, reverting from his alias to his true self. The reaction was instantaneous. The Death Eaters surrounding him flinched as Voldemort roared with pure rage. "Impossible!"

"Believe it, you shit-eating bastard," he said before lunging at the Dark Lord again. This time there was no barrier, but a blade to stop the attack. It was an enormous sword more than twice the size of its wielder's body. Subsequent slashes deflected, he fell to the ground again, this time facing the crowd. Gasps and screams sounded from the students as they beheld what was for all intents and purposes a dead man walking. Within that group, two voices spoke, their words filled with old pain and nervous hope.

"Harry…."

If he heard them, there was no reaction as he turned to Voldemort. Kristen could only watch in silent awe at the fire burning in his eyes and the rage in his voice almost made her tremble. As for the man floating above the lake, he merely sneered.

"I should have known. You _are_ The Boy Who _Lived_ after all. It has become clear to me that _I_ must be the one to kill you, since none of my followers seem capable of it," he said, the last words carrying over to the men straggling out of the lake.

"Come down here and try then, snake," answered Harry with all the anger of his years. Before Voldemort could retort Lucius appeared before him.

"My Lord! Please allow me the chance to rectify my mistake."

"Fool, what makes you think you are any match for him? No, I will take care of this very easily," he said with a sneer. Out of his heavy black robes came a glass orb about the size of a baseball, a dark violet crystal emanating its light from within. It floated in front of the Dark Lord as his sneer grew wider. "More like killing two birds with one mountain, actually." It was that statement that confirmed his suspicions.

"There's no point pulling that out, Riddle. We both know you can't meet its requirements." The elder teachers, Minerva among them, had figured out what the appearance of the orb meant and established mental connections with the other professors to inform them whilst the headmistress opened a connection with Harry. 'What are we going to do,' she demanded, panic finally arising within her. Still facing his enemy, he answered. 'Hold it together a moment longer, Headmistress. I need to think.' As for Voldemort, he cackled loudly.

"You underestimate me, Potter, and Lord Faust. That fool Merlin should have worded his sealing spell better. But explaining is so boring, maybe I should just… show you!" Without warning he thrust his hand in the direction of the students, pushing them apart like dominoes. Creating a fist and raising his hand, Harry saw with horror the body of a redheaded male rise in the same manner. Ronald Weasley floated helplessly before the Dark Lord, stunned to silence.

"What do you think you're doing, you bastard," demanded Harry as he leapt at his foe. The barrier from before stopped him again, and Voldemort cackled.

"Why, I'm fulfilling my requirement, as you so eloquently put it. You see, foolish boy," he said as the orb began to pulse and float toward the now struggling Ronald, "while the spell _does_ call for something of great value to be sacrificed, it never specifically asks that it belong to the castor. How fitting that I take the sacrifice from you." There was nothing more to be said as screams filled the air. Harry looked to Ron only to find that he was being assimilated into the orb, his legs seeming to break apart like glass and disappearing within the crystal. As for the seal, it pulsed faster and glowed brighter than before. The ramifications made him spasm in fear and he could suddenly hear the panicked breathing of every single student and professor on the ground. As for the Death Eaters, they merely watched in awe of their master's power. Turning away from his mortal enemy, Harry beheld all the people he had promised a tired old man to defend. The mental connection reflected his mindset completely.

'THE CHILDREN!'

No, they would not die today, he would make sure of it, no matter what. In that moment he took hold of the magic surrounding Hogwarts and forced an opening to appear right above the huddled mass of children. 'Listen closely, professors. There's only one way we can get all of them out of here fast enough to avoid it. You must Apparate.' Protests and dissent rose for a second, but he pushed on. 'I've managed to make a breach that should allow you to do so, but you must use all of your abilities. There will only be one chance at this. Clasp hands with everyone you can and instruct the students to do the same with the others around them and Apparate to the roof of King's Cross. Hurry.' This time he could feel Lupin speaking. 'What about you?' He smiled slightly. 'I can't leave until you do, or else the opening will close and you'll never escape. Now go!' Trusting the adults to do their duty, he turned back to see only Ron's head floating in the air even as it began breaking apart. He was still screaming, only this time his eyes were focused on the scarred hero.

"Harry, help me! Please help me!" Hopelessness took hold of him and brought thick tears to his eyes, knowing that there was nothing he could do for him. 'Forgive me Ron.'

Meanwhile, down on the ground the order to clasp hands spread like wildfire through the students. As they scrambled to obey, Draco and his group stood before his father.

"We're here, father! Just like you said, they've come to cleanse…' he could say no more as he was blasted with a Disarming Spell into the wall of teens behind him. Roxanne stood alone, her fearful eyes darting between each Malfoy. Before his son could protest, Lucius lifted his wand and in one terrible moment destroyed what had always been a rocky relationship.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Draco could only watch with morbid fascination as the green light stole the life from the only person he had allowed into his heart in this godforsaken place. For a moment she seemed suspended in mid-air before falling almost gracefully to the ground. The movement pushed Draco to action as he caught the cold body of his Roxanne. Incredulous and shocked speechless, he could only look up at his father for an explanation. All he received was a look of disgust. "You foolish child, you didn't think I would just let you cavort with mudbloods without punishment? You are a disappointment as a Black, and I have no reason to acknowledge you ever again."

"A – a – mudblood? She – she was – a muggle?"

"_Apparition!_" The professors put all they could into the incantation, praying with all their heart that everyone had done what was asked of them. The youngest Malfoy felt himself wrenched away as a hand grabbed his bare shoulder. Wind roared in all directions and he could see the castle vanish from sight as if he were flying at high speed. The next second he was in London on the roof of King's Cross train station, clutching the Ravenclaw to his chest desperately, loud sobs joining the din of fear and relief from the other students.

Back at Castle Hogwarts, Harry could feel the students and professors Apparate from the scene. Now there was only the loud compression of energy and the cackling from the monster above the lake.

"It is of no consequence! None of those fools are any match for me! Die, you foolish boy, die knowing that what you defied wasn't a man… but a GOD!" Within the pause he lifted his arms in the air, the orb now glowing brightly. Harry braced, feeling the magic of the castle fall under the power of the Dark spell. To his horror, he saw another barrier take its place, this one an opaque dome bursting with violet lightning, blotting out even the light of the sun. 'No!' Concentrating with all his might, he yelled his hope to the heavens.

"_APPARITION!_"

"_VERGESSENHEIT!_"

All sound ceased as the orb flew from above Voldemort's palm and slammed into the center of the dome, releasing all the energy stored inside with an earth-shattering explosion, destroying the castle instantly and spreading outward. Harry's scream, along with those of the Death Eaters that had foolishly stayed, filled the air even as sound finally caught up with the light.

When the teachers had finally managed to calm the upset teenagers, Headmistress McGonagall addressed them. She told them of what they had seen, confirming the return of the Dark Lord. On the subject of the magicks in use as they fled she remained quiet. The fear was palpable with just news of Voldemort's return; there was no reason to increase the paranoia. Especially since she wasn't even sure of the spell's origin. What seemed to affect them the most, however, was the news that Harry Potter had been alive and among them for the entire school semester. Before the noise level could rise there was a blast like a cannon from the roof of a building adjacent to the station. Black flames appeared from thin air and dissipated in all directions, revealing a panting Harry Potter, his skin smoking from the heat of the spell. Falling to his knees and struggling to catch his breath, he seemed impervious to the stares of all the Hogwarts survivors. When he finally felt like he could stand, he re-established the mental connection. 'Professors, to me please.' The adults obeyed without question, materializing around him to form a half-circle. Once assembled, he spoke.

"Hogwarts is no more. The land on which it stood is now cursed and must be avoided at all costs. Anyone who steps foot there will die an agonizing death."

"How do you know this," asked Sprout, her fists clenched tightly in an effort to control her emotions, an act she did not do alone.

"The spell Voldemort used is part of the three Forbidden Magicks developed by the Dark wizard Faust which Merlin had sealed away into orbs centuries ago. I don't know whether he possesses the other two orbs, but if he managed to find one, it's very likely he found the others. It's called Vegessenheit, the Spell of Oblivion. Now because of the intense magical power necessary to invoke these spells, Voldemort must now go into hiding to replenish himself. This will allow us time to start making plays against him. First and foremost, the students of Hogwarts must be returned to their families. From there we'll begin open recruitment for the new resistance against the Dark Lord. Are there any questions?" The professors stood dumbstruck at the authority in his voice for a moment before returning to the other rooftop where the students waited. Alone again Harry took a deep breath, more to quell the rising emotions than to replenish his lungs. The time had come, and he couldn't help but feel wholly unprepared. The power pushing against his body as he struggled with all his might to escape the Faustian spell was staggering. Even now he could feel the heat of the explosion on his skin. Exhaling sharply, the Boy Who Lived turned to the adjoining rooftop and surveyed the former students of Hogwarts, mentally choosing who he would like to join his resistance among his class. The survivors turned to him, questions in some of their eyes and awe in others. There was some commotion within the group and suddenly Hermione stood on the same rooftop as he, having Apparated. She looked at him in silence, her eyes roaming all over his body as if looking for something. Harry anticipated a reaction but wasn't too sure what she would do if faced with the knowledge that he was alive the entire time. When she began moving slowly toward him, he couldn't help but brace himself. Sure enough her hand swung at startling speed and left his cheek stinging with the impact. Another slap was punctuated with a sob, until she was clutching him and crying her eyes out. Harry held her throughout it all, even when her legs gave out and they kneeled on the roof.

"He's gone, Harry! Ron's gone! I can't believe it… please don't let it be true," she gasped out and he only held her tighter, a single tear sliding down his cheek. The survivors looked on in silence, feeling the horror of what they had witnessed in their own hearts. When it seemed no more tears would come from, Harry gently lifted Hermione to her feet. Lifting her chin with his hand, he spoke with all the sorrow and compassion he could feel.

"No more tears, Hermione. It's time we do what we must. Will you help me lead them," he asked, his eyes intently locked with hers. The young girl has once dreamed of a moment like this, of the kiss and the whispered words of love that followed, yet now all she could feel was a deep feeling of resolve spring from her heart.

"I will." Harry smiled at her answer before taking her hand and twisting in place, appearing in the center of the student crowd. Immediately they formed a wide circle around the two. Magnifying his voice, he spoke.

"Hogwarts is gone. Voldemort is back in power. The world is about to plunge in chaos again. However, this impending darkness will not consume as it once did! I intend to make Voldemort regret ever wanting to return to the light of day. I will take the fight to him, no more secrecy! This is war, and for victory I'll need soldiers willing to do battle with the Dark Arts and all the creatures that will undoubtedly stand against us. The road will be perilous and the dangers ever-present but I shall make you a promise. For every battle we face, every enemy that Voldemort sends at us, I will be there at your side! I will fight! What say you?" Murmurs rose through the crowd. Hermione, having been silent for the speech, stepped forward.

"He threatens your lives, your families, and all that you know! Will you stand there and let it happen? Step forward and show your fortitude! Step forward and stand against the Dark! What say you?" Harry felt a smile inch onto his face when the murmur grew more pronounced and positive. Deciding on his next action, he reached for the hilt of the sword nestled on the small of his back, unsheathing it with a flourish. The late afternoon sun glinted off the blade as he held it up over his head. Taking a deep breath, he spoke once more.

"WHAT SAY YOU!" The cheer that echoed from the rooftop of King's Cross Station seemed to split the sky.

The war had begun.

And there it is. What do you think? For those who feel something slightly familiar about those three words, I totally took it from someplace else. Should I credit them as well? I'm not sure...


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